crossing her arms over her chest, mihika shook her head. "no, i will not dance!" she continued to shake her head wildly, her curls going each and every direction. "do you have any idea how many others are watching? what if they laugh at me?" she wasn't fond of fae looking at her, especially when everything felt off. mihika couldn't tell you why, but she felt like she wasn't supposed to be so cold. and alcohol would make it worse. "do you have other suggestions about how to enjoy this party? i'm all ears."

it takes everything in him not to start laughing. who comes to a ball not wanting to dance? "how endearing of your to assume people care about anything but themselves." he hides his smile behind his cup as he takes a long sip, watching her hair practically move on its own in her upset about people laughing at her. case in point. "dancing's for one's own entertainment! I know a place we may enjoy it without prying eyes." suggestive. improper, even. not like he cares. "come with me!" he doesn't even wait for a response, he just turns aroun d and starts walking away.

the confusion built up more and more by the moment. jin couldn't tell you where he was a second ago, but he wasn't sure why he didn't know that. all he knew was that the drink in his hand needed to be finished before he could process anything. trying to wrap his head around why they were at this party or how he'd gotten there, jin grumbled to himself, wishing he'd brought something to write with. keeping notes had always been helpful to him and now, in his party clothes, he felt even more useless. when he sighed loudly, he hadn't expected someone else to respond. because in all honesty, jin hadn't even realized there was someone else standing next to him.

"starting a dance usually consists of putting one foot after the other. quite like walking. except... better, because there's music." he doesn't know what it is about all these fae and their reluctance to dance. he cn't possibly be the only one here to be in the mood for it. of course, he enjoys dances to more upbeat music, one he would hear at the taverns more than a castle, but with enough wine in his system, it doesn't really matter after a while. "please stop, now you're only making me want to see you dance." it would be quite the sight to behold, indeed.

DIVYA DID NOT FAIL TO NOTICE THE SCOFF, BUT NEITHER DID SHE CARE MUCH TO COMMENT ON IT. She knew the majority of the High Fae found her preferred company to books over them to be questionable at best, rude and disrespectful at worst. However, she also did not fail to notice the hint of curiosity that, undoubtedly, reflected in her own eyes.

"perhaps..." he speaks, already making up a far more intriguing story than it would actually be. "...there are tomes telling tale of a long lost magical artifact that was found by a brave soul in a crystal cave labyrinth brimful of riddles and dangerous creatures, only for the artifact to corrupt their soul once they finally got their hands on it!" apparently, taliesin doesn't need to read any of these books. he simply must write one. whether it is the truth, or all make-believe, it shall be up to the reader to decide.

TO BE ENTIRELY FAIR, DIVYA FOUND HERSELF A LITTLE LOST, TOO. Being a librarian to the Public Library ( not even the royal one ) meant she did not frequent the royal palace as often as one might have thought. When the ruling lieges of the Winter court announced everyone was free to roam as they wished -- if they did not care to join the dancing -- she found it the perfect opportunity to vanish into darkened corridors and hunt down the royal library.

"the library?" a scoff escapes him, brows knitting into a frown of confusion. who in their right mind would try to hide among books at a ball? sounds awfully quiet. and spending time in quiet with someone else's thoughts written down on parchment bound in leather sounds... boring, compared to all the fun one may have people-watching, drinking, and telling each other stories.

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬  :  𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝  𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧  :  𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞  &  𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚’𝐬  𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬  ,  𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥  𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭  𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬  𝐨𝐟  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭  𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡  :  𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞  𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞  ,  @tolvajok

blade of a knife pressed between thumb and index finger as it was held in the air, and aimed at the corner of the intricately designed wooden vanity screen in the corner made much less intricate after the half a dozen throwing knives wedged into it, courtesy of ambrose's little drinking game he made up for himself. the knife that was in his hand landed badly, bouncing off of the screen with a thud and falling to the floor, which was exactly when the door to their chambers closed, and the temperature seemed to have blessedly dropped with the presence of her in the room. finally. ambrose's head tilted to the side out of frustration of his throw not hitting his aim, finishing the cup of wine he had in his other hand with a little stumble as he turned around to face verena. "well, would you look at who decided to grace me with her presence!" his gaze dropped to the bottle in her hand. "do you ever share?"

ambrose's presence was of a comforting quality, when he longed for nothing more than to rewind time, find himself within the wintry embrace of geimreadh once more. he had found warmth there, in a select few of its people -- reminded of the very fact now, as he sat before the lord. "is that so? something tells me they are not so far off your own." surprising, perhaps, for a leal subject of vithel -- but not surprising, for those who had witnessed cedric carve green boy into warrior. misgivings, traditions, sentiments, from the coldest fragment had long since woven into what vithel had taught him, and what the nobles of his homeland would have him believe, now. "we may put it to the test, another tankard and fewer onlookers in." the hall might have been bustling, but the fairvale would not underestimate how easily ears could sharpen, to treasonous thoughts exchanged. "something tells me your stories of old will feature my failing on the black keep's training grounds, on multiple occasions." a coarse chuckle rumbled in his throat as he shook his head at ambrose's sing-song, knowing there was no evade affectionate mockery, if the other was so inclined. "in remarkable detail, no less."

"something tells you?" he hummed, amused as his head tilted to the side. "I must become better at not letting my thoughts be so easily read from my expression, then." nonetheless, cedric was right. the two of them did indeed share the same sentiments about the state of the realm. a breath of fresh air, to have the fairvale lordling in his presence once again after so many years. ambrose could still remember the youthful features the other wore when he came to the black keep. the bashfulness that he so readily took upon himself to exorcise altogether. the skinny limbs of his that could barely keep up on the mountains of the northern fragment. ambrose was halfway into finishing his drink when cedric spoke again, brows raised. he did not look around them, but he knew there were eyes upon the two of them. ears sharpened to catch any unfortunate sentiment roll off their ale-addled tongues.

there was a slight tinge of envy in the smile ambrose offered his good sister, for he so wished to learn to be half as wise as her someday. she knew him well, perhaps better than some of his other siblings, better than even himself. all he had to offer was wit, and charm, and the frigid stubbornness of the mountains. "I shall not." as they walked by the stairs that led to the kitchens, ambrose faltered, nose urging him to turn his head towards them. "perhaps... the cubs would enjoy a sweet treat?" he asked, as if his own sweet tooth wasn't the one aching for some sugar. "we'll be so quick, I promise. just a bit of a detour."

a glance thrown over a shoulder, dark eyes searching for anyone with an air of suspicion around them, a hand on the hilt of a sword, or a dagger, a hushed whisper to another, anything out of the ordinary. it became a habit of ambrose's ever since the attack happened. he'd managed to perfect the looks to seem nonchalant, even though there was an underlying tension in his jaw as he walked down the streets, as if nothing was wrong in the slightest. he was pretending to browse among the many fruits he'd never seen before, considering the lack of color or warmth one would need to grow them back home. that was when he heard the lady's voice, expression softening right away. "recommend? I wouldn't know, my lady... I didn't even know some of these colors existed before." he jests, tapping at one of the fruits. "how about this one? with the color of the sun setting on a day clear of clouds."

"just you wait sister, cahir shall outgrow them all. give him a couple of years and he'll be the one carrying me." his youngest nephew had the blood of winter coursing through his veins from the moment he breathed the frosty air of the black keep on the day on which he was born. he would grow up to be a fierce protector of their house, ambrose was sure of it. "if there is anything I cannot handle, I'd rather it be my own flesh and blood, rather than outsiders. still... I feel as though I could find a way to manage the situation. once they think they've bested me." the sound of achara's laughter brought warmth to his core as they walked down the hallway. he adored his nieces and nephews, enough to skip his duties to spend time with them instead.