Snippet #2791185

located in Fódlan, a part of Fire Emblem: Apotheosis, one of the many universes on RPG.

Fódlan

A continent divided into three different factions: The Adrestian Empire, The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and the Leicester Alliance.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amalthea von Kreuz Character Portrait: Vridel von Hresvelg
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I.Y. 1186 - Garland Moon - Tuesday the 17th
Derdriu - Evening - Cool
Amalthea von Kreuz


Thea wasn't quite sure if she'd ever feel comfortable, again, in a dress as nice as the one she was wearing. For so long, now, it had been mostly armor, and the under garments that went with it to keep from chafing her skin. She pulled at the hem of the dress before pursing her lips softly. It wasn't as nice as the one she'd worn for the millenium ball, but she supposed it had a lot to do with Derdriu's attire. It was different than what she'd find in Faerghus, the Empire, or even around Garreg Mach.

She pulled in a soft sigh, though, making sure that the braids in her hair were still in place. She didn't want to ruin Senka's hard work, after all, and glanced around the ball room. People were still filing in, some taking off towards the back or the corners. Clearly they were just here to spectate the possible drama this event was bound to cause. Frankly, Thea thought it was stupid that they were trying to get Mercer to find a wife. He had a perfectly good wife already. Sorcha was the one person Mercer loved; he wasn't going to give her up just because some Lords had said that he needed another choice.

It caused her brows to furrow deeply as she tried to push the thought from her mind. It still irked her, though. Ugh, she needed a distraction. She spotted a few of the others entering the hall, but she had yet to find Vridel. She had intended to arrive with him, but it had taken Senka a little longer to fix Thea's hair than intended. Pushing a sigh from her nose, she made to find him. It shouldn't be too hard, after all. There was no one in the world, at least not now, that looked like Vi.

It turned out, in fact, to be exceedingly easy to find him, mostly because he found her.

“This is enticing," the murmur in her ear was recognizable as his immediately, as were the fingertips that traced playfully down her bare arms. There were other bits and pieces of skin that she usually didn't leave exposed, either, but he elected not to touch those, wrapping his arms around her from behind just long enough to give her a brief squeeze before shifting around to face her properly.

In deference to the summer season, the men too were dressed in lighter manners; Vridel's vest and the shirt beneath were both bereft of sleeves themselves, white and gold as he tended to prefer in garments, though his loose trousers were a rich red, tucked into polished leather boots. His hair, long as it had become, he left loose, clearly not going to any effort whatsoever to hide it, nor the resemblance it now bore to a war criminal.

“But then I always think that about you."

Thea snorted softly as she glanced up at him. “And the same could be said about you, Vi," she replied, bringing her hands up so she could place them on his face. She brought him down closer so she could brush her lips gently across his cheek before releasing his face and wrapping her arms loosely around him.

“Though I'm not entirely sure if those pants suit you. You should have gone with a violet color, or perhaps a darker purple," she stated, smiling up at him. Of course, that was a lie. Anything Vridel wore always looked nice on him, and always seemed to suite him regardless of what it was. She chuckled lightly before taking a step back. They hadn't started the music, yet, and she wasn't entirely sure what they would be dancing to. From what Mercer had said, they did tango and waltzes mostly, but the former moreso than the latter.

“Hm, are you prepared for tonight's festivities?" she asked, tilting her head slightly up at Vridel, and arching a brow. “I'm sure they're bound to be entertaining."

Vridel hummed in feigned consideration, as though she'd just presented him with a very difficult question indeed. “Which festivities would those be?" he inquired with evident amusement, taking up one of her hands and using it to guide her into a little spin that really had nothing to do with dancing, but was clearly meant just for fun. “The ones where we get to watch ladies mob our dear friend, only to be hopelessly thwarted? The melodrama that is Reynard trying to spit out his feelings for everyone's other favorite Duke? Perhaps the inevitable ridiculousness when some noble idiot challenges the professor to a drinking contest? Devon and Sylvi attempting to tango?"

He arched an eyebrow. “All of these things could indeed be quite amusing, I suppose."

Thea laughed lightly as she arched her brow in a playful manner. “I meant all of them, of course. It's been such a long time since we've seen these kinds of things unfolding. It's... well, it's endearing, really. Even if the reason behind this ball is rather ridiculous, I think it could still be quite fun for all of us," she stated, a hint of melancholy lacing her voice. She hadn't meant for it to sound like that, but she couldn't quite help it.

The last time they were privy to such things was when they were still in the academy, when things still seemed so innocent. She smiled, though, and shook her head. “Besides, I haven't seen you dance in a long time, either. That should prove entertaining as well," she added, a small smirk adorning her lips.

Vridel huffed with mock offense. “You make it sound as if I'm some great oaf," he said, sniffing imperiously. “Need I remind you which of us taught which to do so, little love?" He brushed a hand gently over her hair, evidently smoothing a little bit of it back into place.

“You're right, though," he murmured a little more softly and a lot more seriously. “It will be nice to see some levity again. I think we could all use some." The day at the beach had been nice, of course, but everyone knew the lot of them needed a lot more relaxation than they were going to get, with the situations still as they were in Faerghus and the Empire.

“Shall we make bets on things? How many ill-advised suitors Sorcha glares at, perhaps? Number of times Devon steps on Sylvi's toes? Times Senka is asked to dance? Whatever you like."

Thea tapped her chin in a thoughtful manner. “Well, those aren't really all worth making bets on. Sorcha will glare at the suitors, mostly because Mercer will ask her to be his buffer," she huffed lightly at the choice of words, but continued, “and actually, I don't think Devon will step on Sylvi's toes. He might have become a better dancer over the years. As for how many times Senka is asked to dance? Well, I don't think Professor will give anyone much of a chance. And that's nothing to say of Senka's own glare that might stave them off." Of that, Thea couldn't be too certain. Even if Senka was openly wearing a ring, presumably Professor's, it wouldn't stop people from asking.

Thea had already seen a few wandering eyes in her own direction, even as she wore Vridel's ring and was holding onto him. It would be polite to dance with other people, of course. She knew there was a sort of courtesy there, but she didn't plan on dancing with anyone else, really.

“Let's make a bet on how long it takes Reynard to get enough moxie to tell Duke Goneril how he feels. I feel that's an adequate bet to make," she stated, grinning up at Vi. “I say it takes at least an hour."

Vridel snorted. “I think it takes at least three, and more than one drink," he rejoined. “To keep things fair, if it goes past five or takes less than one, we'll say neither of us wins." He wasn't making a secret of the fact that he was holding on to her, either, rather boldly resting his hand at the small of her back, slightly below where most gentlemen would have been expected to keep it. Then again, he was her fiancé, not merely a random suitor, and it was obvious enough, as it always had been, that if she disapproved all she had to do was say so. The fingers of his other hand toyed idly with the ends of her hair.

“What do you want if you win?"

She pretended to think the answer over carefully, furrowing her brows for effect, and pursing her lips together. “Well," she began, chewing her bottom lip before shaking her head. “It's hard to say. I already have everything I want. I have you," she stated, grinning in his direction. She couldn't think of anything in the world that she wanted other than him. She could feel the grin softening for just a second, her eyes falling to the floor. There was one thing she did want, but she knew it was something no one could provide.

She wanted time. Time so that she could give it to Vridel. So that he may live with her for the remainder of their years, and so that he could grow old with her. She still found it so unfair that she could lose him at any time, but she was trying to make the best of it. The best of the time they had together.

“What about you? What do you want if you win?" she asked, glancing back up to meet his gaze.

He shifted the hand that had been in her hair, catching her chin with it and leaning down close. Close enough, in fact, that his long, snowy eyelashes brushed hers. “A kiss," he said simply, his voice a tad too light for the intensity with which his eyes had locked with hers. It wasn't hard to tell, in the way she knew him, that in reality his wish was the same as hers, but he refused just as stridently to put voice to it.

“Every last one you give anyone tonight."

“I think I can manage that," she spoke softly. “I suppose that means that if you don't win, there will be no more kisses for you," she stated, putting a little lightness back into her voice. She was teasing, of course. They both knew she wouldn't be able to go very long without kissing him one way or another, but she could try to resist.

“Do you think you could live with that? No more kisses?" she asked, clearly still teasing him.

Vridel's eyes narrowed; the hand at the small of her back tugged her in a little closer, until she was all but flush against him. “I don't know, little love. Could you?" He tilted his chin just a bit, enough to tease a kiss without actually giving her one, the barest brush of his mouth against hers receding until it was only breath.

Thea resisted the urge to close that distance between them, and arched her brow in a challenging manner. “I believe I can," she murmured, pulling back just enough so that they were not as close, to prove her point. “But I'm not the one who made such a high stakes bet. You wanted a kiss if you won, but if you don't? Shouldn't you be putting effort into winning so that you get that kiss?"

It was a challenge, she knew, but she couldn't help herself. She enjoyed teasing him.

“Hmm." Vridel seemed to consider her suggestion. “And yet you're the one who imposed the extra conditions on my loss. Very sneaky of you, Thea." He traced his thumb across her bottom lip before dropping his hand away. “As it happens, however, I'm very confident of my bet, so I don't think I'm going to do anything at all."

He smiled, then, even as strains of music started up from the octet set up on the ballroom. “Would my lady do me the honor of this dance?"

“Of course, how could I possibly say no to Vi?" she stated, taking his hand into hers. “And I forget how confident you are," she added. Dancing, at least, would provide them a decent view of the events about to unfold. She was looking forward to it.