Sparkling Water: Fresh spring water that has been magically carbonated. Served with a squeeze of lime or a dash of one of the many fruit syrups available at the bartender’s disposal.

"lyndis," a call of her name and some swift foot work to squeeze past the other participants is enough to have her attention. "an odd situation, wouldn't you say? i suppose we should be thankful that we aren't in any immediate danger, though..." he took a moment to contemplate his new 12 inch stature before reminding himself of why he'd called to her. "oh, right-  i'm sure it's probably hard to relax as things are now, so i brought you some refreshments to ease your mind!" eliwood offered her the shining glass filled with a carbonated substance, a smile on his face. "i wasn't sure what kind of flavor you'd want, but i hope this one is to your liking."

The appearance of the redheaded lord is enough to ease the tension off Lyn’s face. The crease between her brows is replaced by a smile and she greets her old friend, “Eliwood!”

He picks his way through the crowd with grace and poise she could only dream of matching, all while carrying a drink in hand. Not a single drop spills, even as he sidesteps people. That’s what years of practice navigating banquets will do, she supposes.

“I’ll say! This is the first time I’ve seen people at eye level in weeks. I was beginning to fear that my only friends from now on would be mice.”

She accepts the proffered drink gratefully, drink passing from one hand to another, and takes a sip. It bubbles like champagne, but without the bite of alcohol, and the subtlest taste of fruit without being too sweet.

“Thank you, I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was.” Relief and cool water wetting her parched throat allows a heavy sigh to escape Lyn’s lips. “Ahhh... I just don’t know how you manage these things, Eliwood. I think I may just not be cut out for these kinds of things, after all. I haven’t even been here that long and I’m already ready to leave.”

Not that leaving seems to be possible, at the moment.

@pheraefire sent:

"it's quite lovely out here, wouldn't you say, lady rhea?" much like the his newfound company, eliwood had slipped away to see for himself the gifts these elementals had given them. the ballroom was lovely and full of life, but the lord could not help but drift towards the flowers outside. it felt almost criminal, but at least he wasn't the only one with a wandering feet.

"it's nice to finally meet you in person! as for myself, i am eliwood of pherae." he had much about her since his arriving here, and he was glad to see her face to face. after all, it was his duty to bow his head in gratitude to one who opened their doors to him. he had struggled with what exactly he could offer an archbishop, but it appeared that this odd predicament would prove useful. "i had been hoping to give my thanks to you for allowing my entrance, my lady. i think... with a handshake, i should be able to show my gratitude? though, i will be getting something myself." an innocent laugh is given before be launches himself into the proper formalities. after a deep bow of his head, he left his hand out for her to take. "it would be my honor to grant you a flower."

"It is indeed," Rhea replied, looking up from where she had bent down to better see a shrub lit by a magical glow emitted from tiny berries the color of the sky at dawn; as strange a creation as they were, she could deny their beauty. Something about that bothered her, but the archbishop puts the thought to rest as she rises to greet the marquess of Pharae; it is true they have never properly been introduced, and she appreciates his efforts to do so.

(Humans... they come in equally blinding and baffling shades and types as the magicked plants here. This, she has learned since opening the Officer's Academy and it and the steady gaze of her new companion anchors her to the here and now). "A pleasure," she says, taking his hand when offered it, "though there are others here from Elibe I have heard little of way in stories and histories from there. If you are ever in the mood to share I would be more than happy to listen."

"turns out you clean up nice when you try, old friend, who would have thought!" laughter shakes is shrunken frame, giving a light punch to hectors shoulder in amusement. "are we trying to impress any lady friends tonight, then?" a presumptuous question when heard by others, but they knew it was all in jest. "just in case, how about a handshake before you become preoccupied?" eliwood held his hand out to his companion, much like he had done many years ago... when they had sworn an oath with blood.

They're tiny, and it's annoying, but Hector has confidence in the matter being temporary. (It has to be, else those elementals are like to meet with hostility sooner rather than later.)

That said, it feels par for the course, really. His experience in Fodlan has rarely left more than a moment's peace - but Hector somewhat prefers it that way. The more he keeps busy with whatever shenanigans are next up and coming,

the less he has to worry about one of the two primary reasons he's been sent here.

And of course Eliwood knows exactly what those reasons are. 

And of course he has to be a brat and bring one of 'em up right here and now.

He scoffs. "I'm not completely uncivilized, I'll have you know." Crossing his arms resolutely, Hector grumbles, flinches at the bop to his shoulder. His scowl is more bark than bite, but that doesn't stop it being a scowl.

"What lady friends?" He shrugs. "I know not the creatures of which you speak. Hmph."

A pause. He clears his throat into his fist.

"... That was a joke, lest anyone think that should get back to the council's ears." With a roll of his eyes, he goes to meet Eliwood's proffered hand. His grip is maybe a tad stronger than it need be. Serves his best friend right for trying to be funny about his woes. The Ostian grins innocently throughout. Earth meets Lightning, as flowers bud, and,

it strikes him suddenly that, well,

"Looking pretty handsome yourself, Eliwood. If you have too rough a time fending off the ladies, I suppose you can try to send some my way. Saint’s arse, swear not a fortnight goes without them sending a letter inquiring as to the status of a possible heir..."

aaand he’s back to grumbling.

Right pains in the ass, the lot of those old men on Ostia's council. Tch.

Yet the ball awaits, ready or not.