Emron found that the ability to speak left him as Athelia asked to sit with him and Jorgan. The princess backed him up! She was actually agreeing with Emron! He had taken her side first, but it still counts. He would argue it as much as it takes should Jorgan disagree later on.
Emron had been busy sighing to Jorgan, feeling as if though he was still defeated even if he did or did not prevent something bad from happening, he wasn't quite sure either way. Jorgan began talking about something that was rather... Emron wasn't quite sure how to describe it though he had the good grace to at least try to cover it up, though the repetition caused Jorgan to run his hand over his face. Having her ask though, it made him jump up. She was only slightly taller than him which was pretty amazing since he in general was supposed to be inches shorter. One of the tallest dwarves, Emron was thankful for his height even if he normally wasn't so self conscious.
"Of course, please. I beg you, anything to keep me from that talk," He says with a pleading smile before giving Jorgan a pointed look that said he still had no desire to hear of his rash later.
Emron seats himself next to the mage princess though at a distance that would be appropriate and allow him to make conversation that made sense. It was then tht Jorgan decided for yet another subject change and appeared to want an early death as he approached Talzon. As Jorgan says he has a scholarly question, Emron looks at his friend curiously. He already knows that whatever question it is, it is not a good one, yet Emron is curious what his friend has to ask.
That is, until his friends ask the question. He looks at the princess then to pass of the pretense of having never heard Jorgan so he could pretend he didn't hear Jorgan ask the question.
"How are you doing princess?" Emron asks though he finds it to be a stupid question as soon as it leaves his mouth. He wants to bash his head in, feels as if Jorgan should just go ahead and do it now, but he gives a small smile that says he is genuinely interested. He isn't sure if his shyness towards her is visible, but prays it is not.
"I mean... How... I guess... I mean... How are you?" Emron finishes, realizing through his stuttering that he really wasn't asking a stupid question as he was really interested, not faking it at all. How was she doing? It was also a safe question.
Ross huffs as he is told not to assist. He knew they were only trying to advise him and help him and keep him safe, yet... It was as if he was the child. He was nearly Iliana's age. A few years younger yes, but not far enough behind that it was as if he was a child.
He knew Iliana would probably pick up on his temporary negative attitude before he had managed to hide it. He hated that he couldn't keep his feelings hidden constantly like his mother could. It was also just downright annoying.
"What skin changers and mages do... So skin changers and mages are like elves and dwarves, yet who are humans... Never mind," Ross states as if he figured it out. He really just didn't want to talk more if it gave the opportunity to put himself down more. He hated when he did it to himself, but it was easier to blame oneself when you knew it wasn't the fault of others. D*mn his reasoning.
Ross was too deep in thought of self loathing and excitement over Lysanthir's touch to listen to the dwarves or the mages or the skin changers until one approached the little group of elves and humans.
Ross silently raised a brow at Lysanthir in response to Mer giving Talzon a peck. It wasn't something that should surprise him as much as it did, but it did. He just wasn't really expecting it at the moment.
Ross considered Mer's words. Why was it that she believed Athelia's father had kept her hidden? She was rather pretty, though Ross did not feel himself attracted to the little mage nearly as much as the pretty elf beside him.
Ross caught Iliana's raised brow at him and found a sudden extreme interest in his shoulder that Lysanthir's hand happened to be on. His face reddened though Ross managed to keep most of the blush under control. Ross feigns hurt at Iliana's words of a lack of a decent fight for a long time.
"Honestly, you couldn't have said it more terribly," Ross sighs with an over dramatic fake sniffle before wiping away a fake tear and looking at her with a lazy smile that was more common on his face.
Ross feels Iliana's words of him being younger more than ever when she gives him
that look. He gets that they are family, but couldn't everyone perhaps treat him like he isn't so fragile? Or stupid? Or naive? Or perhaps he is just being stupid? Or Fragile? Or Naive? Ross inwardly kicks himself at his lack of knowing what he is feeling towards everyone today, other than Lysanthir, and his certainty that Iliana is still an amazing friend, one that just doesn't know his own, deeper thoughts at the moment.
"I swear, if we get through this encounter without a fight, it will be a miracle," Ross admits with a shrug and a raised brow as he marvels at the group's inability to communicate in a more civilized manner.
Ross looks to Iliana, begging with his eyes and nothing more for advice with Lysanthir as he looks at him with only his eyes so she at least has a general idea of what he is trying to communicate. Perhaps she could advise him what to do about his love life that seemed messed up and confusing at the moment.