navy general */ cimber

“Thank you, but…” He stopped abruptly, suddenly doubting whether he should say he didn’t really want to go back there; he probably could’ve justified it in some other way than just saying there was no point in it, as his parents and older sibling were already doing the necessary rounds of political discussions and polite small talk, so he would’ve just been in the way, considering that he didn’t have much to add. Not that he had no idea about politics; he had a fairly good overview, at least in his opinion, but he just lacked the interest necessary to have an actually good conversation about it. 

Focusing his attention back on the other fae, straightening up slightly in his place; there was probably no shame in admitting defeat, but he still felt nervous under his gaze, fidgeting slightly with the edge of his sleeve. “If you’d like to head back though, don’t let me keep you up… I’m sure I’ll find my way back at some point.” 

     but. suspicion immediately darkened cimber’s eyes. not suspicion of mischievous sort – the fae came across as quiet and unassuming. his assumption could be wrong, based on a brief, incomplete interaction, but it was the one had. no, his mind jumped to the thought that this fae was running, hiding. if he was, he wasn’t the first. not everyone had the constitution for small talk and silent politics. his ability to stand it had waned and waxed over the years; groomed for it from birth but influenced by his time at sea. as general, he had to tolerate it, and it wasn’t so bad for him. he knew others didn’t fare as well.

“as if it were inscribed into my bones.” perhaps a tad dramatic, her voice is a murmur, barely cutting above the music as she joined the navy general. even now, she felt as if her legs might fall into step on their own accord, moving on trained instinct, rather than careful memory. “i suppose they’d meant to alleviate some awkwardness between courts.” and if she’d ever found herself married off to another court, she’d spare her family the embarrassment of faltering. 

“i could teach you.” she offers her hand, gaze clapping from the oscillating dancers to his. “unless, of course, your remaining grace has been surrendered to the sea.” land legs, was that what they called it? the smile she offers silently goads. show the high courts, winter fae did not bow to challenge.

     cimber’s brows inched upwards at the dramatic flourish of her words, but he had no reason to disbelieve her. perhaps it was a newer tradition. a dance that caught on long after his lessons were done. long after he’d traded masquerade invitations for shipboard nights under the stars. “it is a common dance, then?” he asked. a winter court one, even? or more universal? he figured his question would elicit the specifics.

    elaria wasn’t necessarily out of her depths when it came to balls or social gatherings. she was the next queen of the night court and had been raised on how to act in the public eye from the moment she was born. yet she still felt uncomfortable — all dolled up to celebrate both a funeral and a coronation? it just felt out of place. even more so she was on a stage, so to speak. she knew eyes would be on her as it was no secret that her own reign might be starting soon.

   she’d yet to dance, actively avoiding it in fact. instead the night court princess chose to linger on the outskirts — watching, drinking. she settled next to another, only stopping for a moment to figure out where she might go next, or if she should start mingling. when he spoke, she turned, night sky eyes meeting brilliant blues. “cannot say i have. perhaps it’s exclusive to the high court?” gods knew they were so exclusive about everything else they did.

     if the woman next to him came from any court other than the night court, he would be shocked. a delicate mask made of hundreds of diamonds encircled dark, night sky eyes. her sheer gown was covered in constellations and a crown rested on her head. cimber wouldn’t considered himself underdressed but, next to her, he felt it. he supposed he preferred his own style, though. he wasn’t keen on shining and glittering the way she did.

This was a horrible mistake, he came to realize; maybe he should’ve just braced through the small talk and forced pleasantries, that would’ve definitely been a better look for him than running away as if the chair burned him. He could already imagine the lecture his parents would give on this matter, reminding him that he wasn’t allowed to be young and reckless like that; and it was a thought just as annoying as getting lost, if not even more.

The sound of footsteps echoing in the hallways thankfully allowed him to refocus his attention on the present; he slowly lifted his gaze to the stranger in front of him, lips curling up in a small smile as he shook his head, as to dismiss the question. “As shameful as it is to admit, I just got lost… This place is like a labyrinth.” He brushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear with a small, anxious chuckle; he suddenly wished to have something to occupy his hands with, anything to take off his mind off of how helpless he suddenly felt at that moment. Terrible way to make a first impression…

     lost. naturally. not that cimber disbelieved the other; he had a better sense of direction than many and a sharp mind that had memorized the halls and rooms the winter court delegation had been shown upon their arrival. getting lost hadn’t been a concern of his when he’d left the ballroom and he wouldn’t consider himself lost now. perhaps it was this stranger’s luck that cimber was one that found him. he probably wasn’t the only one wandering lost around here.

     lord decretas has raised ( or attempted, at least ) his children to be perfect members of nobility. that had meant a childhood full of lessons in literature, art, swordsmanship, etiquette, philosophy, et cetera, et cetera. of course, dancing lessons had been among the et cetera. a lord or lady who couldn’t dance until dawn at a ball was a poor excuse for one. cimber remembered those lessons all these years later. after all those years spent in the bowls of naval ships, working his way up. he’d chosen a noble profession, but it was unlike the one his father envisioned. he knew that had been a point of pride for his father before the old man died – that the sea hadn’t changed him for the worst.

( open to anyone. )

Sneaking away from the dinner proved to be easier than he expected; he excused himself saying he didn’t feel well - while the truth was that he felt actually out of place and underdressed compared to everyone else. Maybe he should’ve listened when both of his parents reminded him that it wasn’t the right time or place for minimalism; but it was too little, too late for this now. He nervously fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve as he took a turn to another hallway, hoping that this one would lead somewhere outside, or at least far enough from the commotion… And then he hit a dead end in the form of a door. Great, just… excellent.

He definitely got lost. He should’ve expected this, only having a quick tour of the whole place before the dinner started, but that didn’t make him feel any less disappointed about this; and he was sure it was showing on his face too when he sat down on a windowsill in one of the hallways, burying his face in his hands with a heavy sigh. He should’ve asked for a map of this place…

     cimber tipped back a crystalline flute, sparkling, rosey liquid sliding past his lips. his tongue tingled pleasantly, but the drink didn’t burn his throat the way he was used to. a part of him longed for something harder. something amber, something smokey, something with a fire that could warm the tundra of his home. but it wasn’t wise. getting three cups to the wind before the dancing had even begun would be poor form, not to mention foolish if a fight broke out. it could. even under the sharp gaze of the high court guards, this was first time a group of fae as large and mixed as they were had been under one roof in a hundred years. in more, probably.

     the tension had been thick enough to cut with a knife, simmering like the sauces and soups they’d been served. cimber had made polite small talk with the fae seated near him, sipping his drink in every moment of silence. when he could no longer tolerate it, lungs screaming for fresher air, he stood and excused himself for reasons best left implied, his drink still in hand. the doors shut behind him, but he wasn’t alone in the halls. turning one corner after a next, the general finally came upon the unfamiliar fae. it wasn’t surprising the someone else had left the dinner; what made him hesitate was the heavy sigh and the way the stranger buried his face in his hands.

masquerade attire ;