[BP] Marsten & Coldbrook (Closed-ish)

[Lady Corrine Marsten]

[ooc: This thread is for Corrine, Daveth, and Dyana. Join by pm permission.]

"
You look a little lost."


Corrine sashays over to Daveth, whom she has spotted staring off into space on his own. Her scarlet dress and gold fox mask lend her an air of mischief, enhanced by her buoyant curtsey and playful smile.

"
Master Daveth, if I observe your demeanour correctly?"

[Daveth Coldbrook]

Daveth starts when addressed. He then gives a somewhat jerky bow, like he's trying to catch up with where his body would have been were he more alert and graceful. "
Lady Corrine, a pleasure. And yes. Very perceptive of you, given how little time we've spent together."

[Lady Corrine Marsten]

She shrugs modestly;


"
When one is to be a Lady, one learns to watch people's mannerisms closely,"
she explains.

"
Also, I surmised it was you when I saw you enter with Dyana. Are you enjoying the party?"

[Daveth Coldbrook]

(OOC: for the purposes of easy chronology, I'm assuming this happens very shortly after the thread with Ser Benedict)

"
I am,"
he says, casting his eyes about every now and then. "
Although I made the mistake of taking my eyes off Dyana for a minute to speak with your betrothed, and someone with more sense than me seems to have seized the opportunity, so I'm also rather kicking myself."


Maybe she threw a rock and found a better offer?

"
How goes the party for you? Well, I hope?"

[Lady Corrine Marsten]

"
I am enjoying it a great deal, though I too seem to have misplaced my companion,"
Corrine replied congenially, then gave him a reassuring smile;


"
Fear not, I'm sure they will both return to us. In the meantime, I would actually like to discuss a couple of business matters, if I may. I promise they won't take long or be too tiresome."

[Daveth Coldbrook]

"
With me?"
he sounds slightly surprised, then his brain catches up. "
Yes, right, of course. Sorry."
he gives one more look around before focusing his attention on Lady Corrine, and his tone becomes more professional. "
How may our houses help each other?"

[Lady Corrine Marsten]

"
Firstly,"
she begins, her own tone becoming more professional. "
A matter of housekeeping, so to speak. I have now taken up my full duties as head of House Marsten, so, henceforth, any dealings between our Houses should be done with me, rather than my mother. Secondly, I have a request to make, but I must first know how good you are at keeping secrets."


She eyes him with interest.

[Daveth Coldbrook]

"
Oh. For some reason I assumed that wouldn't happen until the wedding. Still, congratulations, and the best of luck. You've chosen a good man to work alongside."


And don't pretend you're not relieved by knowing you won't have to deal with Lady Isobel directly.

"
As for keeping secrets?"
he pauses and actually carefully considers before answering. "
My first instinct would be to say that I'm very good. But I would, in the interests of fairness, give the caveat that if keeping said secret would, in my opinion, bring harm to my house, family, or frankly, anyone I feel particularly close to, then I become rather less good."


He gives another look around. "
But I'm not sure this is the right place to discuss anything secret. If you want to tell me now, it would probably be better if we found a quiet corner where no-one else would hear."

[Lady Corrine Marsten]

"
The wedding is all but assured, so I am keen to make headway in my new role, while this tourney affords me such find networking opportunities."


She takes his arm and leads him to a quiet corner;


"
I do not believe you shall find the matter objectionable. It is... well, I wish to ask your help. I had thought, as a surprise present to Ben, to obtain a weirwood sapling, to be planted at Hartshorn, to form a Godswood. He keeps the Old Gods, and I wish to honour him by providing him with his ancestral place of worship. As a Northern friend of House Marsten, I was wondering if you might be able to aid me in this quest."


She offered a hopeful smile.

[Daveth Coldbrook]

At her request, Daveth actually smiles. "
Just as well I didn't think opportunistically enough to already offer that service to him, then.

"
Anyway, yes, we can definitely help you."
as he says this, his own words that he spoke to Ser Benedict and his sister on their first meeting come back to him. If I were a Lord, I would be unceasingly kind to my allies, to thank them for their fidelity, but I would be unceasingly cruel to my enemies, to discourage others from joining them, and encourage them to ... reconsider. Those who are neither, I would greet with an open hand, a friendly smile, and a show of respect. Until they prove themselves deserving of different. "
So, what I propose is this: we provide you with the raw materials and such, including the required saplings, to cover a fifth of the cost of the godswood. Call it the Coldbrook wedding present to you both. All I ask in return is that the Coldbrook coat of arms be present somewhere fairly prominent within it, as a mark of the lasting friendship between our houses."

[Lady Corrine Marsten]

Corrine smiles warmly, and cants her head respectfully;


"
Master Daveth, that is most agreeable. I knew from our first meeting that you were a good and generous man. I am delighted to accept your proposal. We will honour your House with our Godswood for generations to come!"


She offered up her wine glass in toast;


"
To our future prosperities!"

[Daveth Coldbrook]

"
Thank you, Lady Corrine."
He raises his glass in response. "
To our future mutual prosperities."


(OOC: /thread, unless there's more business to discuss from your end.)

[Lady Corrine Marsten]

[ooc: that was all . /scene]

[Dyana Marsten]

Some time after Daveth and Corrine dismiss each other's company, Dyana approaches stealthily and speaks from behind the white raven.

"
Daveth. Looking for someone?"
She says with a quizzical smile. "
I lost you by the mummers."
Seems like he managed to find her by himself just as well as he kept her around. Which is to say, not very well.

[Daveth Coldbrook]

Daveth turns around, not startled for once. But his voice starts off rather louder than normal [size=150:387l5ya6]"
Dy-"
before he catches himself and speaks in a more normal volume. "
Dyana. My humblest apologies."
and he actually gives a small bow of contrition. "
It is truly a fool who disregards the gift of your company this evening. My only excuse is my intentions were good, yet I do not pretend that is sufficient.

"
So please,"
and he raises his hands. "
Allow me to begin to make it up to you on the dancefloor."

[Dyana Marsten]

Dyana offers her hand like a proper eagle lady. If she was startled by Daveth's stuttering high tone, she doesn't show it. She shows only a smile.

"
Why, of course, Daveth. As long as you do not go around teaching Cyvasse to these poor, innocent girls... there is no damage."
She steps closer as he takes her. "
If memory does not fail me, we strike quite a pair on the dancefloor."
The Eagle smiles.

[Daveth Coldbrook]

"
The last 'poor, innocent girl', unaware of all things Cyvasse, that I taught it to is seemingly turning into quite the demon."
Daveth replies with a smile, as they start moving to the music. "
I can handle one nemesis- and am greatly looking forward to the day when I do-"
with a small mischievous smile "
but a second would be a foolish distraction."
he locks eyes with the taller woman, and his voice becomes more serious. "
I know what I'm after now. Distractions are unwelcome."


He breaks the gaze, and his voice turns back to normal. "
And yes. Last time was the best I can remember dancing."
a half-smile at her. "
Let's see if we can't top it."

[Dyana Marsten]

"
A demon? It sounds as if she struck you quite hard, if I may say so."
Dyana's steps fall in place, one after the other, note after note. "
But I agree, then. Leave distractions aside."


When they danced, some days before, she proved competent - lacking in technique but compensating with finesse. Today, however, awashed in the music of Bartheld mummers and with spirits lifted by the elaborate masquerade, the Silver Eagle moves with a fluid grace her former self couldn't hope to match. Technique is irrelevant, her poise and soft-stepped movements blending in with the best of dancers present with nothing to owe them. Lace and tail of her gown drift behind her as they dance, the feathers of her mask shifting idly with the breeze as they struggle to follow.

"
I'm in the mood to top it,"
She says simply, with the joyous smile of a woman who is enjoying herself. "
but I need two to make it work."

[Daveth Coldbrook]

Daveth dances, aware that his ego's invited credit his body simply cannot meet payments on. And as he starts, he feels that lack of grace holding him both back. Dyana's comment of needing two to make it work stings deeply. Damnit, not now! I can't fail now! I don't care what the price is, don't let it end in disappointment here!

So be it.

Something inside Daveth *breaks* from the impact of a fall begun three days prior. And the first thing he does is stop worrying about what onlookers are thinking about him. Instead, he takes that, and throws it into the mental furnace energising his movements, knowing that when the dance is over, it will return with a vengeance.

He takes the considerations of every action he does and its impact on Coldbrook-Marsten relations, and burns that, too.

His abject failure to even slow down Ser Theomore's nefarious plans? Burn.

His father's persistent disapproval? Burn.

His mother's psychological decline? Burn.

His brother's antics, no doubt causing all kinds of diplomatic hassles once he's back up tomorrow? Burn.

The pressure to carry his house safety towards prosperity through the deals he makes? Burn.

The worries over how bad things have gotten back at the castle in his absence? Burn.

The guilt over failing to protect Joren? Burn.

All those, and the thousand and one other burdens he carries around with him every minute of every day, he lets it all burn, the world around him fading away until all that's left is Daveth, Dyana, and Dance, moving through a void filled with nothing but meaningless shadows. His old dance teacher would weep at how poor his form was, with exaggerated movements and inefficient motion all over the place as he threw himself fully into the dance. But what there was was energy and passion. He knew Dyana's timings now, and trusted she'd be where he thought without checking, and he placed that same trust in her.

It would never win Daveth any dancing awards, but it was fun! On a couple of occasions, Dyana would even be able to hear Daveth quietly laughing to himself as he lets go.

"
A masquerade ball is an interesting thing."
Daveth begins as the piece nears its end, and the most vigorous movements are over. "
In most circumstances, our actions are guided by many voices. Our desires tempered by the chains of propriety and duty. Thus, far more than just an excuse to show off some colourful costumes, the ubiquity of beverages, combined with the façade of anonymity, works to loosen the chains we labour under."
Daveth looks Dyana right in the eyes at close range. "
We silence 'I shouldn't', 'I can't', 'I mustn't', until all that's left is"
and he leans forward to whisper in her ear "
'I want'. So, for the second time, Lady Dyana Marsten, I ask you to show me: What do you *want*?"


Daveth moves his head backwards slightly, moving his mouth away from her ear, until they are face-to-face, eyes locked, scant centimetres apart;
and he leans in, head tipped slightly back so their masks don't interfere, and he attempts to place a gentle kiss on her lips.

(OOC: now, this is Daveth, and you're you, so if you want to do anything up to a punch that will knock Daveth out for a few minutes, just narrate it, no rolling required.

Drunk Daveth has the best plans. )

[Dyana Marsten]

Dyana moved with elegant, slender grace, and though at first it was slightly jarring to see Daveth fail to keep up the effort, she is caught by surprise by a sudden change in his demeanor. Where he seemed nervous and holding back at first, the Coldbrook almost suddenly lost himself in the dance, guiding her with a sustained explosion of energy and motion and footwork.

Once again, however, as they reach a similar rhythm, the two prove unlikely complementary on the dance floor. And through Daveth's frantic, exaggerated and Dyana's flowing, economic movements, they step all over form and precision to perform a striking waltz.

All in all, it could be said they topped the previous attempt.

Just as she was beginning to sweat from all the exertion, the mummers finish their most contagious song, and switch to a calm drift. Some couples begin to disperse, but the Eagle merely throws her head back and laughs for a wonderful moment. Wonderful because she danced like never before, and wonderful because she did so after a non-negligible amount of wine, which made the feat all the more difficult and enjoyable.

Her outward mirth slowly fades when her dancing partner begins to speak again, and she looks at him. Looks at him, and sees him, for he speaks with a sudden assurance, a confidence she hadn't seen before. Not the witty confidence of a cunning boy, but a tone that comes from being sure of what one is saying.

"
A masquerade ball is an interesting thing."
She hears him say, and her emerald eyes blink and consider the Coldbrook's concealed countenance as he continues. They blaze over his mask, his mouth, his eyes... and still, they remain hard to read, for the mind of a woman can be unsolvable even to herself. That being the case or not, she leans her neck ever so slightly when he whispers to her ear, and has her head still slightly tilted when he moves back to face her.

"
Lady Dyana Marsten, I ask you to show me: What do you *want*?"


Whatever expression she holds then, the eagle mask conceals well. Her eyes lock on his, and she blinks, perhaps in curiosity, or expectation. And when Daveth closes in, her lips part softly, in the intake of breath one has when they know something is coming but are still somehow surprised by it. The position of her face deflects the masks' noses - or beaks - from touching, and his lips touch hers.

Though she does not rebuke him, Dyana does not return the kiss, either. Her eyes close for just a moment, not much longer than a blink or two, as she considers the situation. Then, gently, she raises a hand to the Coldbrook's chest and pushes him back just enough to end the kiss. Their faces so close their breath still mingles, she smiles a small smile, and looks deep into his eyes.

"
Daveth Coldbrook,"
She answers in a low voice;
not a whisper, but still so that only he would hear, "
you are a kind man, and a brave one."
Her eyes seem to search for something inside his. "
You don't know me."
She says then, the 'but' implied but not said.

[Daveth Coldbrook]

Daveth accepts the gentle push-back without resistance, and his head remains where it's left, neither further withdrawing, nor reattempting approach, eyes still lost in hers.

"
Then I would say there's time for one more lesson this tourney, this time with you the teacher, and me the prodigious student."

[Dyana Marsten]

Dyana's smile widens, her breath escapes through her nose, and she looks down, her head moving from side to side - slowly.

"
You the prodigious student?"
She says, her eyes darting back up. "
Very well, then. What would you have me teach you, Daveth? What do you want to know?"
She gives him the same searching look as before.

[Daveth Coldbrook]

Daveth lets the question hang for moment, considering, before answering. "
Either teach me about the woman who made the timid bold, the thoughtful active, and the rational passionate, so that I may understand ... or teach me to let go.

Because right now, I can do neither alone."

[Dyana Marsten]

Dyana considers him as well. She can't but think it all some ridiculous, Daveth with a raven mask, she with an eagle one, dancing idly near the mummers and speaking of things that run deeper than all that. That is not what this place was for.

But a thought occurs to her. "
Let us leave, then. This crowded pavillion. If you want to speak of this, then you will have to take me somewhere private."

[Daveth Coldbrook]

Daveth slowly nods, takes a step back, and finally breaks their mutual stare, offering her his arm and an escort away from the party, angling towards the Wheel tower if no better location presented itself en-route.

(OOC: No doubt this will create more activity for the rumour mill. Do you want to carry on in this thread, or make a new thread LE at the wheel tower?)

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