Once the prince had made it clear after dinner that he was intending to retire as there were still things he had to manage in the form of duties, they were given the verbal allowance to freely pass through the home. To the outside even in which she was personally a fan of.
Removing the damnable cape that had wanted to act like wings, of course she was hardly about to ignore the chance to drag the princess out into the elven city to get a proper view of it all. Without the stuffed shirt. Practically literally. Shirking much of the frou frou to just keep the pants and the basic undershirt as the homage to tasteful scandalizing.
Having come to annoy said royal soon enough once the shedding of extra doodads and thingamajigs were tossed aside. Rapping knuckles upon door and barging no sooner her way indoors. As if she had not ever seen the bits and pieces her and Calia shared if she was being a rude friend. Just helping herself to the off limit area. “It’s time to test out how good your hangovers are,” Rhelic called, “And my own. Don’t think for a minute that you are getting out of being drug out of the house to the nearest gaudy pub!”
Calia didn’t know why she thought this evening was going to be as simple as dinner with a prince and then going straight to bed. Giving Rhelic an almost surprised look as the drow burst into the room while Calia was still trying to gather all her thoughts in order. Soon to erupt into a full bodied laugh, as there was no way in hell she was going to pass up the opportunity for a tavern crawl. This might very well be the last chance she had to enjoy some lively fun with the other woman, and perhaps even in general before she was trapped in the web of royal court.
“Is that so?” she responded with an act of playing coy. “You’re going to send me off to the Elven Queen with my head split in two and making all the sense of a blubbering drunk?”
Notably, Calia didn’t say no. Instead she was up and making quick work of going through her things and adjusting her own garments. Loving this look of actually appearing as an elegant grown woman instead of a battle maiden and choosing to leave her sword belt behind. A dagger in her boot was good enough if there were trouble. If only because she didn’t want anyone to feel she was the one out there starting it if for any reason she and her companion got a little rowdy.
“Why don’t we see who ends up with the most free drinks and pocket full of coins, hmm?” she suggested, done with righting herself and dusting her hands off as if there’d been anything on them in the first place. “How gullible are elves to bar tricks and games?”
“Is that so?” Repeating it with a mark of sarcasm, as if the princess ought to have prepared for this exact moment. Surely she would not have wanted to simply crawl into bed and snore the hours away when there was a brand new unchartered world for her to explore. One that was similar to her own, surely! “I mean, you say that as if that wasn’t already a hidden agenda on your unspoken list. I dare say you having a splitting headache and trying to act like you can cross your I’s and dot your T’s wouldn’t be fun.”
Of course she was going to be included. Grinning brightly the second the princess made a show that she was on board this wagon of checking out bars and locals alike. Shortly arching brows at the idea of who would bag the most drinks and coins. “I feel like I would be at a disadvantage but well, we are both rare sights in the city.” A drow. A human. They’d be surely an attraction. “Sounds like we could make this a get rich quick scheme.”
Before shrugging at the question, “I mean probably gullible enough if you get them drunk enough. And the way you phrased that, I suspect you have an idea or two in mind.”
At first a wide grin was Calia’s only reply. Full of all sorts of promised mischief, ideas, and surely plans of exactly what she intended to get up to. Not giving another word even as she’d twisted her hair up to pin in a loose on top her head – with some letter opener she’d confiscated out of a drawer no less because why not have another potential hidden weapon on her. Keeping her silence longer still until the pair of them had exited the prince’s home and had put some distance between them and any snooping listening ears that might’ve wanted to eavesdrop into what was nothing more than ridiculous conversation.
Last thing Calia wanted was the household staff believing she was both a violent savage AND a wildling drunk slut.
“Ideas, no.” she’d finally said with that cheeky smile of hers once they were in the open air of the evening. “But if I can make a little pocket change amidst gratuitous flirting and free drinking, it’d be a practical use of time. One must afford to feed her future minions after all.”
Wisely they had left the over grand palace of the fourth prince before Calia would start to divulge the truth of her thoughts. Her scheme in which for a moment, Rhelic hummed about. Stroking fingers down the bend of chin with due care. Making the wheels of thoughts work to not only start directing them away from the lavish abode but towards the main artery of the city that would sport all sorts of venues. In particular, the Golden Leaf. She knew about the place and was well aware that it was both fancy and utterly the easiest place for everyone and anyone that was someone would gather.
And tonight, well, that seemed like a good idea. To give Calia a chance to be the bell of the pub so she could make this pocket change. “You might need more than mere coins to feed however many you employ well to your cause.” Rhelic pointed out but grinned no less. “Well you’ll be the most interesting piece there after all. I would assume you’d do well with some flirting and free drinking. Although it would be nice you had this plot earlier. Then we could have escaped sooner, talked to the bar owner and worked it out that every drink bought for you was actually water, and the guy would split the amount for the drink with you.”
Of course she knew this game. She had played it and worked with it as a drink slinger. It was quite the nice way to fill ones pockets without having to get smashed.
“What I need, I am never going to find in a tavern, but tonight we’ll pretend it’s good enough,” Calia laughed. After all, she was no fool. No amount of free drinks and a few bar games was going to fund the entirety of rebuilding a kingdom. At best she’d make just enough to get her to the next city or village, maybe enough to pay a companion for a short amount of time. Luckily for them both, this evening’s shenanigans weren’t actually meant for earning lots of coin, but more of a… forgetting who she was for the night. No Princess Calia, or future Queen Calia, not even Demon Slayer Calia for the rest of the evening.
It was the rest of Rhelic’s statement that earned more of her interesting, bringing a surprised blink and sudden grin to her face.
“I didn’t know you could make deals like that with the bar tenders,” she remarked with another laugh. Truly surprised and yet not at the same time. As much as she’d wandered around to visit little village taverns, Calia was still young yet and there was a lot about the way of the world she hadn’t experienced or seen. Especially in a small secluded kingdom like Caeldalmor, where there wasn’t exactly means and opportunities for enterprising scam artists to make easy coin.
Well now she had a new trick up her sleeve for the future and by the look on her face cast towards the drow woman, it was no secret she was filing that tidbit away to be used later.
“Better we’re not up to any real scheming anyway. It’ll be nice to exist for an evening and not be entrenched in… thinking. I don’t want to plan and plot anymore, I want to be so plastered drunk that I can’t remember my own name.”
Leveling a flat look on her with lips pulled into a quite the opposite expression of amusement, she could say a whole lot about what Calia needed and not. Settling instead to focus on the bewilderment of the girl that had learnt a whole new trick.
“Some drinks can be pretty pricey. You just split the cost between the bar and yourself. They take half, you get half. And they just keep your drink filled with water and at the end of the night, depending on how much you drink.” Quoting the word lightly, “You can make some pretty nice coin. And a reputation too. If you drink a lot and don’t ever get drunk.”
The way she looked, she knew Calia was taking it to heart. She could use it honestly, any sure fire way of making extra bank in ones pocket without stealing or cheating, hardly seemed like a thing not to know!
Bursting shortly into a laugh at the whole follow up. Encouraging the princess of the mountains to hasten her step then. Taking to trotting along the ornate streets to where they could likely hear the change in atmosphere that was turning from calm to buzzing beehive with people. “You might end up in someone elses house then, I won’t be carrying you back to the princes abode.”
Calia could down quite a bit of liquor and still function, something that came from a natural metabolism and a lot of practice. Much like the time and progress it took to swing a sword, drinking without killing yourself was a skill! Although, if she were honest with herself, functioning wasn’t exactly the goal when one wanted to swallow as many pints in a short amount of time as possible.
…and if Rhelic wasn’t going to drag her limp body back to Renus’ not-so-humble abode, Calia ought to be smart about it.
She laughed all over again, knowing she wouldn’t be.
“That doesn’t sound so bad. I’ll take someone’s plush bedding over a straw covered barn floor.” she admitted with that cheshire grin. There surely wasn’t going to be a lack of handsome elven men – as Rhelic once said: You could throw a rock anywhere and hit a elf with a pretty face!
As they waltzed down the street, Calia took note of the style and beautiful posh elegance of even the buildings here in this city and pondered that it might not be her usual encounter of rough and tumble farm boys or woodsmen. Even if she was a princess, she wondered if she were even going to be up to par with a bunch of prissy elves, or if she was going to be seen more as some human harlot dressed up in a noble’s costume!
“You’re assuming someone else is guna be coordinated enough to not just have you both tumble on the floor.” The drow waggled her brows as if there was any need to emphasis any part of this commentary. Without even throwing a sense of worry out to Calia that she might not fair well in such a made up scenario. Rather knowing the girl would be plenty fine and in turn it would be whatever lucky unlucky bloke that had been the prize of the evening that may have their sensitive and squishy self hurt by the lack of anywhere soft to land.
But that was a future problem that didn’t have her name on it.
Instead just motioning Calia to keep hurrying along while they began to find the density of people. Starting off sparse but shortly blooming to favourable crowds seeing as the night was plenty young and newly started for those elven sorts that had no issue letting their hair down no matter what day it was.
Naturally in turn, eyes were upon them. As if they weren’t simply unusual sights but rather coloured outrageous colours of flamboyant pink and fire orange! Never mind it was a drow and human in the same runnings as another. Which Rhelic paused to fall back and swoop an arm through Calia’s to keep her from potentially being swarmed before they could get indoors.
The sounds of merriment and uproarious near drunks were already announcing themselves with the selected venue having some of its patrons already flowing out its double wide and flung open doors.
A gentle pat and Rhelic took the way of them to be two bulldozing sorts, barely offering polite enough excuse me, or pardons, as she ploughed them through. Into the abode. Unsurprising to her that inside was still outside. It made it easier for people to migrate when there wasn’t the holding of walls and roof. Just open bar placements in a street aligned with lights and leaves. Gold lights and green leaves. Likely a play on the name of the place and it was plenty busy. “Alright,” Rhelic squeezed her arm, “Lead on, bar wench number two. I wanna see how you fit in.”
This was such a strange mix of the familiar and unfamiliar for Calia, that it was hard to keep that wide-eyed wonderment and excited curiosity at bay. Her world had been a lot of the same, same, same for so long that she’d settled into this mode of being stoically unimpressed with all around her. That calm and collected soul, too cool to emote more than enigmatic smirks, cause she’d already been there or done that and knew everything there was to know. Now she’d been unleashed into a world so vastly different, it’d reignited that youthful desire to touch, see, taste and explore everything.
Of course, she was still keenly aware that she was out of place. Used to having people stare at her for a variety of reasons, while at the same time this being such a different situation than she was used to at all. Calia loved the attention when she was looking for it, and this was certainly a different kind of attention than she’d experienced before. No curious stares about what a Princess was doing wandering around the streets. Nor was it side-eyes and gossiping glares because she’d done something improper or stupid. Not just a pretty women walking into a bar, but now a mysterious foreign stranger that was a unique sight to see!
Somehow she was going to fuck this up, Calia just knew it! Good then that Rhelic had taken her arm and was dragging her off because Calia was still trying to shake herself out of her thoughts before she made a childish fool of herself.
Only to just as quickly forget what she was feeling so insecure about, as once they’d passed through the doors into this wide open air tavern crawl Calia was too busy being amazed by the warmth and liveliness of it all. From the way the stone was laid out along the paths to the lanterns lit and strung from building to building, giving off firefly glow. There was nothing like it in all of Caeldalmor, not even in their capitol where surely this would be such a wonderful way to spend time with people while getting a glorious view of sky and stars.
“I am in love,” Calia declared with all wistfulness. Giving Rhelic’s hand on her arm a gentle pat even as she did as instruction without hesitation. To lead the way down this cobbled path as if she herself had always lived here and owned the very place. Practically bubbling with giddy glee, because where should one start! The very first open seat she spotted? Or should she find a little spot that looked perfectly like her spot?
The wicked sort of giggle she gave did not bode well for the folks here. Oh, they would have fun, but she was about to be an entire enchanting problem.
Calia walked them a bit until the sounds of music caught her ears and naturally that was where she led them. Weaving through elves without a care in the world of who did a double take in their direction, until she found the right bar and slid onto one of the stools.
The breezy laugh came from her without any hesitation. The girl declaring her love for the open tavern that made it truly very easy to mingle. And travel in the case that Calia hardly needing any further influence for them to migrate along the stretch of active bodies. Drinks being served and conversation readily flowing in ways that probably made the wine and ale and whatever else, properly jealous.
Till they were finally coming to seat at a bar side that was open enough and no sooner, the approach of a slightly taller than average blond elven man. Hands patting down the bar to check for any sticky spots before flashing them each a bright dazzling grin. “Welcome, fair ladies. What can I get you this evening?”
Rhelic eyed Calia, then the elven man. Too blond for her tastes but certainly in the right direction. “A Petal mead for myself.” Speaking up easily and considered a moment for Calia, “Something not too strong yet for the roundear. She needs to be able to taste the elven beverages at least for a little bit before she’s introduced to the heavy stuff.”
His brows lifted. Thoughtful but amused, “Elderflower beer?” He asked having then grabbed a wet rag from his hip to wipe at the counter. “Or could do a Moonbeam Wine. Both are flowery, if you couldn’t tell but certainly good to start expanding one’s new palette.” His eyes flickered noticeably to the roundness of her ears.
Calia cast the drow a sly look, as she was not quite in the mood for gentle taste testing this evening. Fully and wholeheartedly ready to make good on her promise of being dimwittedly smashed to the point of not seeing straight. But then, maybe it was good to start off with lighter drinks, especially if she wanted to find herself some company that wasn’t some green stuttering boy that wouldn’t know what to do with a woman if he were given a written manual.
…and a handsomely tall and pretty option this bar tender could be! Throwing out any thoughts of protesting drinks in favor of resting her elbow on the bartop and chin in her hand. Smiling practically from ear to round ear.
“I think an elderflower beer is a good first choice,” she agree with a toothy grin. “Can’t have me starting with wine and dancing on bars before the moon is yet high.”
He gave a winsome smile him, leaning forward enough to gesture with hand a wet towel towards the small stage further under the cover of the wooden structure. Surrounded by more warm lantern lights and hanging ivy, it provided a nice little setup for the playing musicians with their lutes and flutes and drums.
“Better to dance there where you’re not so liable to fall,” he suggested with a quick wink. “I’ll have those drinks in just a moment.”
Once he was out of ear shot, or so Calia hoped, she leaned over to Rhelic with a curious whisper.
“How many drinks does it take to get you dancing for a rapt audience?”
Brows lifted as the blond drink of bar fluff pointed out a spot for Calia to shake her tailfeathers on later. Instead of climbing up on the bar and finding herself on the floor shortly after. Knowing this and having seen it more times that she ought to be able to count.
Thankfully the bar keep likely knew this as well and slipped aside to get their requested and told drinks. So it was unsurprising when the princess in plain sight leveled her green eyes on her. “Hmm, more than one. Less than ten.” Grinning as not to give a specific number, “And the goal here is for you to get your shimmy on with someone else. Potentially blond. Nice eyes. Too pale for me to consider.” Rhelic expressed playfully, “But maybe if you figure out the number, I’ll give you a drunk dance too. Never knew I wanted to try doing that until now and for a royal, huh.”
She thought a moment and chuckled shortly after. Good timing as a wooden stein was set down before each of them. Nothing too interesting but it held the liquor well, in which Rhelic took hers. Leaning forward, “You’ve gotta have a name, right? Barkeep seems so impersonal.”
The blond elf grinned all the way to eyes. “Elre.” He offered sweetly and of course, “And you both have them too, I presume. A drow and a human are rarities already but I don’t think its polite way of calling either of you.”
Flashing a look to Calia, she grinned. “Dherdra.” You know, for wild anonymity.
Calia wasn’t sure what part she was more entertained with. The idea of Rhelic cutting up and dancing around a bar ten drinks deep, being one hell of a bawdy party companion, or the fact the drow women seemed to have this goal of finding Calia the perfect evening bedmate. Somehow it made the night’s tavern crawl feel more like a hunt for handsome prey. At this rate maybe Calia should send the woman out like a sheep hound to round up a bunch of potentials, so that Calia could take her pick over whom to club over the head.
This was ridiculous. Is this what it was like to have a friend. Ridiculous. Hilarious. Calia was laughing all over again by the time the barkeep returned to place down their drinks. Reaching for her own to take a testing sip – after all she was meant to taste things first – nearly coughing into the mug when Rhelic gave a false name.
Oh. They were up to those sorts of shenanigans then.
“Lia,” she answered herself, before she could think twice. Not meaning to repeat the nickname Archimedes once called her, but unfortunately it was the first thing that popped into her head! Leaving the princess to all too demurely take a much heftier swallow of her given drink. Flowery and malty as it was.
“Not blond,” she then remarked to Rhelic, to begin the means of mapping out a least what she’d be interested in. “No offence, Elre! I have terrible luck with blonds. Unless you stumble over a lonely silver fox, I wouldn’t say no to that.”
The timing of her taking a very long and nonchalant drink when Calia seemed to be stunned at the idea that there was a fake name drop. Looking out amongst the other people as though they were the most interesting things in the world. Only returning one’s line of sight after said princess gained her feet again to give another not so applicable name.
It wouldn’t do either of them any good to have their real names out there and then whatever problems they caused to fall back to the prince. They might look different but right now, they were no more than tourists. Not guests of the fourth prince!
“Sounds as if you are putting all the bad luck from one or two blonds on others.” Elre straightened up but thankfully there was no offense on his face. Taking to rubbing his face a bit thoughtfully, “I’m not that much of a wingman persay, more of your drinker pourer but a lonely silver fox?”
Rhelic of course giggled then, “I don’t think she realizes that a silver fox for an elf would be quite the senior at all.” The drow considered the princess, “Didn’t know you liked great or great great grandfathers, Lia. The things I learn.”
Rhelic was having a laugh at her expense, to which Calia had no offence of her own either. Just that self deprecating grin and a shrug of her shoulders.
“It’s hard to tell with elves when years don’t mean much,” she admitted. “I met a trio back in Emerson Groove that were a handsome lot and would’ve guessed they’d be about my own age. Turns out they were a good one hundred years my senior, yet barely out from under the skirts of their mothers!”
If Calia were a different sort of girl, it wouldn’t matter much at all. Someone who was sweet and good natured, who had a head fully of whimsical romance and youthful spirit. She’d have enjoyed the flirtations, the chase, and the bumbling around to figure things out. It’d be a lark all on it’s own, and ever so fun to repeat with a whole variety of different sorts of men.
Unfortunately, she was a saucy, selfish wench with no patience for a bumbling boy. Finding the whole idea of romance in general to be a silly thing. All that energy wasted in the song and dance of getting to know yous, when it was so much easier to just point at someone you liked and to have at it! And she was quite lucky that most men were delighted to have the opportunity, so all Calia had to do was be picky-choosy!
“Besides, I bet old Grandpa Elf would love to have his jimmies rustled again. He could even teach me a thing or two.” she shamelessly chimed in. Not about to admit out loud that she did have a habit of tumbling with those that were likely a bit too old for her. After all, it’d gotten her into some trouble hadn’t it.
“The rule of thumb is,” Rhelic paused to sip for thematic anticipation. Dragging it out a longer than necessary moment till Elre was lightly chuckling and she could clear her palate, “If they look to be your age, add on a hundred years. If they look to be your father’s age, add on three hundred years. And if they look to be wrinkled up prune, then you should roll them over into their graves. Help a senior out.” That got Elre to burst and promptly shelter his face behind a hand less he be caught laughing to hard.
Having not expected such a statement likely.
Add on that Calia was suggesting she might want to bring some pep back into a grandfather elf, Elre had to look away. Using the crowd as a distraction whilst Rhelic purposefully gave the princess her best disapproving stare. The malice was fake thankfully, “That’s too wild for me. But Elre, try your hand at being a wing man. It might earn you some favour.”
He gathered his wit back and started properly looking through the crowd. Ears perked and eyes flicking back and forth. Making this quite the effort before, well he seemed certainly not so innocent. Shortly bending elbows to the counter to lean in close. “So what we talking here. You looking for actual fun, or for games. It helps to have a man on the inside.”
She smirked, “Not your first time trying to pair off some women hmm?”
“Not at all. And I know when someone might be wanting to just be free and fun and when someone wants to make it worth their while, if you know what I mean. If you were really here just to blow off steam, there wouldn’t be a need to be particular about whom. So?” He grinned teasingly, “What’s it worth to me. I can find some easy pickings or leave you both to your devices.”
Calia raptly listened, expecting Rhelic to have something actually useful in learning to recognize the maturity of these long lived elves, only to find that it truly was just a bunch of impossible nonsense for any human to ever try and figure out. On the bright side, at least she didn’t need to worry too much, she’d only find herself frustrated more oft than not with daffy young men. Amused at least that Rhelic was now trapped with mental images of romancing wrinkled up old grandpas.
Leaning elbow on the bartop, she was just grinning quietly with eyes flitting back and forth between the two as thy discussed what was likely common fare for an experienced bartender. Finding herself all too interested in this new knowledge that those who poured up drinks and served meager fare did a lot more than just that! Quiet side deals of making coin under the table through means of watered down drinks and apparently match making bed mates along with it.
When the question turned to her, Calia laughed at first assuming it was more of just the casual talk and teasing. Soon to straighten up in her seat with a bewildered look of surprise once she realized that they were actually serious. Shifting a bit there to consider… did she even actually want a fling this evening? It was one thing to chatter away and be ridiculous – to daydream up scenarios and have a good laugh. Now she was here, finally with the means and opportunity, and Calia found herself almost hesitating at the thought.
What did she think was going to happen? That she’d pass her curse down through fucking? Insanity! Still, it would be nice to feel like someone’s everything even if it was just for an hour or so.
“You know what, I’ve seemed to have bad judgement in paramours, so have it. Only for fun, mind you! Find me someone tall, not too stupid, and doesn’t pee on the side of buildings when he’s drunk.”
It was a moment. Then two.
Eventually Elre patting the table with a broad easy going grin that made her feel like he was a bit too well versed in knowing who to pick off. Never mind the whole second statement about Calia’s ability to choose poorly. Which probably sounded to the tender that she just had bad luck, boy wouldn’t he just be utterly surprised to hear the depth of how bad that luck was. “Alright, so a challenge.”
Rhelic chuckled, “Doesn’t sound like a challenge to me.”
“It’s the whole, don’t pee on the side of a building thing that may be interesting to navigate. I don’t really keep track of that.” Elre pointed out without a beat to be missed. Scanning over the crowd till he suddenly came back to swoop down.
Laying two fingers out. “To your left, is an off duty guard of the Queen’s palace. Stoic soul typically until you get a few drinks into him. Then, well, you’ll have to find out for yourself. He’s got the long brown hair in a tail. Or,” He turned to pivot and point out further down the way to a man whom was of white hair and jewelry. “Or that one. A mage fellow but new into town. Don’t let the markings fool you. He seems like he is a timid soul beyond the level of appearance.”
Rhelic hummed then and looked at Calia. “I know which one I’d take.”
“It’s a matter of respect, you know,” Calia defended about the criteria. “If he can’t be arsed to respect a building, he sure isn’t going to respect me.”
One could learn a lot about a man’s character based on how he behaved towards people, animals and things when he was drunk! Calia might not always been the best at making friends, but it was a no brainer to drop anybody that thought it was okay to whip his dick out and wiz all over the place.
She did watch, though, with curious patience while Elre seemingly scanned the room running over some mental checklist of his regular patrons. More than interested in seeing what he might come up with for a foreign woman he didn’t know a think about beyond her very short list of requests. Giving two very different options, to which Calia was not so sure she agreed about the assessment of!
For this palace guard described as a stoic soul, did not seem so stoic to Calia but rather someone who might get bawdy when he was drinking but more than likely had a tender heart. Perhaps it was her ego talking, but that was the sort to fall in love with a pretty stranger and believe meetings like this to be kismet. She couldn’t have that, now could she.
While the other, seeming like a timid soul her magical ass. Something about that one had an aura of trouble, and it wasn’t just because of the platinum moonlight hair. Calia knew trouble when she spotted it, she could do so from a mile away.
Naturally, that’d be the one she was most attracted to. How frustrating and predictable! Leaving her frowning in indecision for a few brief moments before she just sighed, oh so dramatically and resigned herself to her fate.
There was no denying whom she was and what she liked.
Twisting in her seat, Calia picked up her mug and in several very long, deep swallows downed the elderberry beer like a champion. Swiping her thumb over her mouth before slipping off her stool to give Rhelic a winsome smile.
“I hope we don’t have the same tastes, for I am not apt to share,” she chirped breezily, pushing away from the bar to see if she’d could still be dazzling or if that skill actually required a beating heart.
No fear or hesitation, no maidenly blushing or second guessing – although that inner voice of hers was laughing for some damn reason – Calia crossed the open air bar to join the blue-eyed mage. Not bothering to wait for an invitation or otherwise to scoot into the seat next to him and broadly smile.
“I need assistance,” she told him in all earnest honesty. For she kind of did need a form of assistance. That air of mischief not failing to come through, whether she meant it to or not. “If you don’t mind being vexed and troubled for a few minutes.”
Attention was almost immediately swayed to the presence of another. A change in the flow of familiarity to be interrupted by that in which was glaringly foreign by both life and spirit alike. Certainly amplified when the bright features of crystalline blue turned to find themselves resting upon a dark visage of a round ear maiden.
His tongue suddenly felt very dry and his features pronounced themselves into a gentle pink simply because well, he didn’t know. Only that his attention flickered up and down over her while picking up that she was carrying around an aura that was entirely puckish. “O-of course.” The man cleared his throat in vain hopes that it would alleviate the sudden surprise to be under such direct focus. “What is it that you need, young lady?”
He didn’t know a lot about round ears but he knew they were exceedingly younger than most elves, typically.
Young lady! There was no stopping the pause she made, blinking evergreen eyes in a moment of surprise before blossoming into tempered amusement. Calia supposed to most elves she would be a young lady, lest they were freshly launched out of their mother’s nethers. Despite the fact that in her opinion he had the look of a man who’d get into some trouble, he appeared to be a little bashful in the cheeks. She adjusted her posture instinctually, softening herself to not be so aggressive… not about to terrorize anybody!
This time, anyway.
“It is my first time in an elven kingdom,” she admitted, with nothing but congenial friendliness and gesturing with a subtle finger at the drown woman waiting at the bar. “My friend is a bit of a minx and intends to get me stupidly drunk. I’m not opposed to having some fun, but do you have any recommendations for what I might order for a bite to eat that might stave off a headache later?”
Eyes floated after where the sloe crowned woman pointed, addressing that said minx was in fact a drow. An oddity already considering most of them dwelled deep below Edelguard’s surface in a kingdom of their own. Having only seen it a once or twice himself, to think there was a under dweller upon the surface was unusual. Intriguing of course but with the way the commentary was flowing, he suspected there was likely more to this over all interaction than simply asking what he might recommend to a foreigner in the means of palate options.
It took him a moment to deeply consider the spread of directions this interaction could take.
Settling on that it was meant to be flirty and interactive. Allowing him to trace thumbs along the rim of his own drink and settle a bit into his own body. Lingering another look the way that the woman had shown –getting a wave from the drow seeing as it wasn’t difficult to tell they were looking her way- “Well if your friend is a heavy drinker, perhaps it would not be of bad consideration to linger with company that will evade you getting too intoxicated.” Blue rings moved across her gingerly, favouring staying at her features. “I would say any food is a good way of staving off a headache later but perhaps you are looking for an invite to join me instead?”
Calia remained an astute observer, watching for those subtle little clues that’d help her determine what sort of man he was and if her presence was even wanted at all. Not about to be some pushy dame chasing after somebody who didn’t want her, certain that her already battered wouldn’t be able to take it. Imagine being so unwanted you couldn’t even get some random guy’s attention!
She followed his line of sight towards Rhelic, almost wrinkling up her nose at the ridiculous friendly waving. Was this what it was like having friends for a tavern crawl? Were they going to sit over there and watch the entire time, waiting to see if she was going to crash and burn? Or give rowdy cheers every time she was successful? This was ridiculous.
At least this elven mage didn’t seem to mind her interrupting his solitude, easily relaxing herself following the way he settled in to be unbothered. Resting her arm on the back of the seat to cast him a wide, unabashed grin. No shame there in being called out about her intentions, instead just affirming it with a casual shrug of her shoulders.
“Am I?” she countered with a laugh. “To be honest, I haven’t really decided yet. I did want to forget my worries for an evening with some good company, but I’m unsure what is acceptable here compared to my own homeland. …not to mention the awkwardness of having an all too attentive audience.”
The drow seemed amused even from afar. Leaning back after her wave to talk to the Elre, the blond barkeep. Having a conversation that seemed jovial enough while he allowed his shoulders to relax. His posture to slacken and his attention to stop filling itself with what if’s and possibilities.
Instead making a pointed statement that the young ebon crowned woman had come to him to make merry in the thinly veiled suggestion that she need help knowing what foods to eat to stave off a hangover. Because if that were true, then the barkeep would know better than a random at the bar scene.
“And you’ve selected me as your good company currently. I’m flattered.” He meant this truly offering her a small grin, “Although the attentive audience may be hard to shake. You are a foreigner in a sea of elves. You’re bound to pull attention from that alone, the whole pretty black iris appearance only adds to it.” He turned a bit to then look at her forwardly, “Starling.” He tapped his chest indicating his name. “And you are?”
“I find myself spoiled for choices in a sea of handsome elves, so flattered you certainly should be,” she teased, making full light of the moment with an ease to her flirting that she couldn’t seem to get correct with other means of communication. At least glad that she hadn’t made a fool of herself with her first attempt, and that Rhelic was now happily distracted chattering away and not likely to loom like a watchful hawk.
Thus easing Calia all the more to be her natural self. …or at least as natural as she could get full of an empty chasm and carrying the weight of the whole mountains on her shoulders.
“Starling is a curious name – like the birds,” she mused, only to soon gesture at the hint of tattoos she could see. “Although, I bet it might by hinting more at the mystical. You are a mage, then? Are you any good at it?”
Of course, she had refrained from mentioning her own name on purpose, if the look on her face was any hint. After a beat, she was leaning in closer. “You can just call me Lia. I’m sort of liking the idea of being a black iris, though. I might just steal that for the future.”
Lips pulled at the wording of how she really had quite the selection of souls to pick from and settled upon him. Something that couldn’t be ignored even if his pride fluttered a bit more than it ought too. Just shortly nodding a bit when she spoke about his name being peculiar. “More towards the mystical certainly. Tarn for short if you prefer and yes. I am a mage myself, though I would say one has to be half decent to be considered a mage in the first place. Otherwise they may just be magician’s and braggarts that claim they know the arts of the magic.”
But he smirked at her then a moment, “I wouldn’t go so far as to start showing it off in a public place. People tend to either be enamoured by it or scared by it.” He motioned to a passing other tender for a new drink and watched as she finally offered him a name.
Leaning in close enough that he could smell the subtle scents of bathing oils. “Please do, I’d be honoured to have such a compliment follow you around, Lia.” Tarn offered her a winsome crafted smile, “And for you as well, do you want something to eat or are you looking for a drink instead? I wouldn’t be a good selection if I didn’t at least attempt to aid your whims.”
“Tarn,” she repeated, with her grin growing ever wider. As if she had some great comment on that one too and was just barely holding in all manner of mischief just to be polite. She made no further peep about it, instead focusing on his statements about what actually makes a mage a mage. Seeming to have curious opinions on that fact, which in turn also piqued her own interest.
By now she’d confirmed he was plenty worthy of her perusal – not someone bumbling and flustered and too over eager. Nor someone with some off-putting way of being more slimy than charming. Setting her eyes to very obviously checking him out, so to speak, filing away little details of physical form with all due appreciation. Casting him a smile of knowing sweetness when his compliments conveyed he was doing much the same.
Calia knew she was beautiful and did not need to be told the obvious… it was still nice to hear it and confirm that she hadn’t somehow shriveled up into some sort of bitter crone.
“A drink or three would be a pleasure,” she affirmed with a quick nod. “Share me your favorites, and if I like it enough I might drag you off for a dance. Would be a shame to let good music go to waste.”
Lightly bowing head to her repeating the shortened name, while lips seemed like they were quirked in such a way that additional commentary could have flowed. Something about her presence spoke that she was far of the opinionated sort but was on her best behaviour this moment. Likely because of a new place.
With the approach of the maid that would fill drinks once more, easily he hummed when she affirmed the agreement of a drink or few. Lifting fingers to indicate drinks, “Refresh the Tears of Gaia for myself,” The elven maid waited as he clearly was about to say more, “And two shots of Dragon Spit Whiskey.” Tarn leveled his stare upon her, “Might as well have some fire in the belly to ensure you won’t be too horrified at the fact that I am not a dancer by any means. The drunker you are, the better I’ll look making a fool of myself.”
The maid nodded. Taking the order without a word. Whisking aside so he might turn and lean elbow upon the bar. Pushing the emptied drink glass he had inwards so it could be collected when the girl returned. “Shall I skip over the expectant replies, Lia? The ones of why you are here in the capitol. Instead should we favour superficial commentary that flatters us both? I don’t want to waste your night with someone who doesn’t pick up on cues that you may wish to avoid.”
“I’d say the worst dancers are the most fun to dance with,” Calia responded with a laugh, and more laughter still at the names of these elven drinks. They were almost alarmingly creative, as she wasn’t so sure how to feel about something called Dragon Spit. Good thing she was daring enough to try it anyway. She’d likely swallowed worse.
Grinning a cheshire smile when it seemed he wanted to skip the whole means of politesse in small talk conversation weaving into something deeper. Something she was more than happy to do as… what could she even tell him? Calia had learned her lesson about spouting too much of the truth. No one wanted to hear it, believe it, or care beyond a few brief moments of interactions anyway. And she most definitely wanted to forget her life in every way possible, even if only for the night.
“Let it be in agreement then, not to waste our time,” came her reply. “Consider me a shooting star here to burn bright for a night and likely never to be seen and heard of again. Of course, that means you’ll have to try not to fall in love with me, and that might prove to be incredibly difficult.”
Brows rose in time with the airy laugh. Contemplating the thought of her idea. The worst in such provided the best results. It wasn’t wrong after he gave it a thought. “Well in that case you’ll be very pleasantly surprised and amused.”
It wasn’t long before the glass was refreshed and two short small and dark red shots were set down before them. The maid herself looking curious. Likely because well, a round ear having such a drink was interesting in it’s own right.
Picking his own with a motion for her to do the same, grinning shortly from pointed ear to pointed ear. “A woman with confidence and with a spark. Certainly about to leave some strong impressions that way.” Tarn softened his look but brought the shot up, “What if it’s the other way around? Are you certain you won’t fall in love with me?”
Calia didn’t care a whit if he were a poor dancer or not, all cheeky grins and amusement about it, and truly as long as he was fun then it would not matter at all. Soon to find herself curious as the elven maid brought over their drinks – his looking far more harmless than this double shot of red whiskey! By the look of the other woman’s curious face, this was about to be a doozy.
“Oh, I am a heartless wench,” she responded with a loud laugh at her own little private joke. “Sure to be distracted by a pretty face and the next, but falling in love? That is one curse I am blessedly immune to.”
A lie? The truth? It was true to Calia, at least. Oh, she’d had many a crush, an infatuation, even obsessions – but never was it love. She’d seen love between her parents, of her eldest brother and his wife. She’d watched people fall in and out of it in such a variety of ways that she knew was never going to be for her. There was something about it that she just couldn’t take seriously. Maybe she thought too much. Or more likely she was just such a menace, one that could barely even make a friend, that love was not something she was capable of.
Thank goodness one didn’t need love in order to enjoy the physical company of another!
On that note she reached for one of the shots and without even an ounce of hesitation, she knocked it back… immediately erupting into a scorching cough, as that was rough! Absolute pure burning fire, it felt like and almost even spicy to boot!
“That-” she coughed again, almost even tearing up with it. Setting down the tiny glass with a choked laugh. “…that’s a spicy bit of hell, isn’t it!”
“Oh,” Tarn took her comment as nothing serious. Bemused certainly and shortly seeming to approve of it. “Better that way. Less care and more action. Love is from what I’ve heard and seen, too dramatic.”
The man tumbled back the shot with practiced familiarity. Dragging thumb over lip a moment before finding a spicy laugh beckoning at her gumption to toss back her shot. Erupting into a cough.
Leaving him to lean back. Impressed. Written all over his face before easing out a low deep chuckle. “It wouldn’t be very interesting if it wasn’t with a name called dragons spit.”
With a nudge of his glass in offering, “Now take a sip of this to cool your tongue and embrace the conflicting of temperature. And when your ready to ignite a new flame, we can try to dance. I’m curious to see how bold you are or if it’s just your lovely confidence in word, Lia.”
“If that’s just dragon spit, then I-” she cut off, laughing again, as the commentary that would’ve followed wouldn’t be very lady-like or becoming at all. Calia might be bawdy, but she wasn’t one to be crass. Accepting the other glass to take a quite sip and as promised, it helped temper down that spicy burn something much more sweetly cool. Finding she quite liked that contrast. Fire and Ice, something she’d had a fun little experience in with her own icy magic and then testing out a demon’s more burning inferno.
Invested now with her new companion, all worries about Rhelic and what the drow was up to was long out of her head. Two drinks in, and not even close to being drunk just yet, but happily having started her journey with the way it was now quickly hitting her stomach and soaking into her blood. Enough to feel that nice loosening of her muscles and all that tension she’d been holding onto for weeks.
“Oh, dear Starling Tarn, if you thought this miss was one of all talk and no bite, you are in for a world of wonder,” a mysterious sort of statement paired with the slow blink of eyes all too akin to a cat stalking it’s pray. She was quick to slide off her seat with an all too elegant sweep. To take his hand and bid him to follow her without even an ounce of awkwardness. Calia might’ve been young, most especially compared to elves, but there was no denying she was well confident in her skin and body.
“It’s only a starter. There’s far worse drinks that others elves take part in and you’d surely wonder if they had all their facilities.” Tarn offered even as she started laughing. Though in part he also assured she ought to try the cool liquor that was a compliment to the whisky. A balancing act that she clearly understood when her tastebuds were freshened with the cooling drink.
And of course, they were about to make their feet play the game of catch up. “Bite you say?” He stood up to her beckon of hand taking him along. Although he wasn’t tall like she may have wanted, he was at least close to eye level to the mountain warrior princess.
Where black and white of their unified crowns would act as a ying and yang for their movements, a stealing sip of the glass she had nursed momentarily from was made. Then followed her quickly to stay hot on said heels while the music of the instruments were bubbly and lively. “Alright, show me the ways of your culture Lia, and maybe I won’t worry too heavily about embarrassing you.”
“Worst drinks, hmm? Color me intrigued.” she answered in good humor. Honestly, it couldn’t get worse than watered down bitter grog. Something in the outskirts of Caeldalmor that’d been popular for the gods only knew why! Some form of self inflicted torture, Calia assumed.
If she’d noticed he was shorter than she would’ve preferred, she didn’t even think twice. In truth, it didn’t bother her in the slightest in these moments where it was meant to be nothing more than a bit of frivolous fun with someone she was never going to see again. Preferences were more like guidelines, anyway. Perfectly ignorable if a man turned out to be a good time.
Although had he been eye to eye with her chest, she would have laughed her way right out of that bar and not turned back.
As for dancing, Calia took to that like a duck to water. So fluidly going from a walk to dancing as if she’d been dancing the entire time. While it was true she’d been taught to play a variety of instruments as part of her mother’s ridiculously over-zealous royal education, playing music wasn’t near as fun as dancing to it. Able to pick up tempo with any part of the song she pleased, like it was beating out of her own heart.
Which was surprising now, considering she didn’t have one!
“See, you won’t embarrass me for a second. I’ll be gone and not a memory, and you’ll still be here carrying the weight of these hefty stares.”
A moment it took to consider the fluidity of her frame moving to the rhythm of the beat. How it was keeping time with the ups and downs, the bounce of the freeing melody and spurring a laugh out of him that came from a genuine place in his chest.
Though he was hardly as fluid to the melody, he was to keep the promise of being a terrible dance partner! He was a mage, not a musician. He understood the means of making magic move to your inner will with either reagents or tomes or nothing at all! The flow of instruments was as strange as trying to fathom how gravity worked on them but not on birds! “You say that,” Tarn hummed in a delightful spread of a grin, “But memory is still a thing. You never know when you might wake up in the dead of the night and groan at the recollection of dancing with a foolish mage.” Taking an obvious step out of beat and shrugging. Just rolling into the bad motions of his own form and accepting it as a fun and silly moment.
Calia threw her head back in a laugh, as he sure hadn’t lied about his lack of dancing skills. He was out of rhythm and out of time, just a little bit awkward with it and the fact he was still trying was endearing. Forcing her to reach out her hands to grasp his just in an effort to at least help him along so he wouldn’t go flinging an arm or leg to knock someone out.
“A foolish mage indeed that can’t quite connect with his own body,” she teased easily with that wide grin. “Music is as close to magic as one can get. If you can feel it moving through you, then it’s naught but a single side step to feel the flow of magic.”
She could say a thousand more things about that, only instead she was deviously stealing in close to whisper in one of his pointed ears.
“As for memories, maybe you should be considering about what better things you could have me groaning about in the middle of the night. Yes?”
“Perhaps for some who are gifted,” Tarn suggested at her idea that music and magic were in the same house. To him, they were not. Others would likely agree with Lia. Not everyone was gifted in such ways and some really did have a hard time being able to find the similarities between items.
He was analytical with the means of magic. Understanding it so deeply that it went through a series of calculations instead of just feeling this or that. But with enough drinks, he wasn’t liable to think that thoroughly and with the vexing young lady, it was just as effective.
Letting her lead him even if he was just exactly doing whatever felt fine. He wasn’t here to impress anyone or win any sort of prize. “I’ve never found an interest in this sort of thing, you may be the first to successfully manage to get me to do so.” A glint in his eye was playful if not entirely telling.
Only for her to lean in close and the heat of breath fanned with a commentary that lifted a deep hum in the back of his throat. Something primal and as she pulled back he would give her more of the assuring look that assured he knew exactly what she meant. “And your drow friend wouldn’t be bothered or worried to have her companion just simply disappear for such,” Tarn thought and captured them no sooner. “A private symphony.”
There could not have been a more wicked look on her face, than when he’d suggested it was only easy for the gifted. A wicked witch sort of look that damn, even Calia knew it was there and it took a pushing of herself away to twirl under his arm to fight it off her features. Aided probably in those first initial drinks to drop her usually well controlled expressions. Magic was everything, it was the air she breathed and the blood she bled. Mages were so woefully limited, and what she wouldn’t give to have it in her hands again.
Calia needed to not think about that else she was going to ruin her own mood!
Bringing herself back to the elven man with that more controlled cheeky frown, nodding oh-so-solemnly in agreement that it was indeed a testament to her charm that she had such a man dancing at all. Meeting his playfulness with her own, most especially when he brought up the drow and appeared to be perfectly on her hook.
She’d forgotten about Rhelic, though, casting a quick glance over her shoulder before turning back with a completely unabashed show of grinning teeth.
“She’ll forgive me. Unless you intend to keep me all night, and then I might have to buy her breakfast in the morning to make up for it.”
Brows lifted slightly. Pulling a pleasing arch onto lips, “Well, it wouldn’t be much of a night if it was only for one or two hours. One has to enjoy it from start to finish to really appreciate it. And you don’t know, I may be terribly greedy. You did,” hips swayed with to try and find that flow all the more, “Tell me that you were like that of a shooting star. Here for a moment, gone a next. I’d be foolish not to try and keep it as long as possible.”
Moving hand to cup along hip, sliding slowly with a gentle knead. Feeling the canvas that was showing itself to be as faeish as the roots of his ancestors. “And well, if your friend is a forgiving type then I may want to make sure you have a collection of memories. The good. The bad. The,” Tarn lingered making the moment stretch out in anticipation; “In-between. You sought me out after all. I better make sure I stake a good claim in some way.”
Damn, this one had a smile that could send a court of damsels into a full domino of swooning. Almost prompting a softer sort of smile, if he wasn’t presently painting the picture of not just a brief interlude where she’d come stumbling out of the backroom disheveled and plenty satisfied, but of something far more involved and enticing. For who coulda known that Calia too was a very greedy woman that couldn’t resist the promise of a long and prosperous night.
“I see,” she made a play at being coy, but by now that sort of bullshit was so obvious even she didn’t keep up the charade longer than the short phrase. Slinking her entire self real close, as close as she could get without full body touching, and reaching a hand to give a gentle squeeze to his upper arm. Smirking then, because he wasn’t just a pretty face, there was plenty nice on the rest of him too.
“A smart move, Starling Tarn,” she affirmed with a soft croon. “Especially seeing as you’d be the first elf I’ve ever had a… relations with. Best to make sure you’re the one I compare all others to for the rest of my short burning life, yes?”
It was easy then to forget about the whole efforts of trying to dance when it was not something he was favoured towards. Rather looking at her as if the entire world was simply them and no other. Following the subtle motions that indicated when one could get closer and when one best step back.
Leaning into the light touches, “Oh well then, I had better set that bar so high that you’ll be disappointed with any other who thinks they can try.” Slipping fingers to line up around the small of back. Feathering touch rather than grabbing and pulling in a demanding expectation. Letting bodies move at her lead, letting gaze move slowly over either bit of features. Memorizing them till he was no more than a gentle grin and a bare notice that the song had moved to a new one. Something a bit more tame but not so slow that they would be two youths going in a slow circle.
“If I’m going to be the bar, guess someone best tell me what she wants me to do. Rather than the other way around. Something tells me that you wouldn’t react well to being pushed or pulled to my whim. Consider me your willing accomplice. Who will well,” Dragging lower lip to bite upon with a stalling of phrase, “Do what you want.”
Light musical laughter was quick and welcomed, only turning her head gently to the side as she did so when he pulled her in pleasantly close. Not lot on her that these movements no longer really matched the pacing of the music played, as even she wasn’t much paying attention to it. Now locked right in to little tiny physical shifts, as if he himself was a new sort of magic she was trying to study and learn.
“What a cruelty, spoiling me so badly that I never know another pleasure for the rest of my life,” she answered with nothing but amusement. That honestly sounded like a fun challenge to her!
Finding new humor in him suggesting she was not one to enjoy having someone else tell her what to do. In most things, perhaps, that wasn’t entirely true. Fatally true for anyone dumb enough to try and manhandle, cage, or control her. What a surprise to the entire world for anyone to discover she was plenty willing to bend for another… if they were worth that allowance. Alas, she doubted this one had the time or means to live up to any of her expectations. Which was perfectly fine, she wasn’t looking for Mister Do It Right. Calia was here for a good time.
“Lucky you, my instructions are as simple as can be,” she mused, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “I want to wake up tomorrow morning feeling like I’ve ridden a particularly feisty horse for three days, can’t remember my own name, and be absolutely delighted for it.”
“Well let’s call it a fair trade then. My cruelty to make it hard to live up too and yours for appearing for a single night.” Leaning close to let the heat of breath pass close to ear as he dipped towards. Brushing fingers over back, other only hovering in vague gesturing whilst feet stepped slow and purposeful then.
Letting bare touches of bodies flirt with another as a prelude to what could be. What one wanted it to be.
Giving her such an open invitation that it spurred a silent thrill in his gut. Turning grin sweet to perfectly puckish. Surely a tingling ran his spine at the idea that the goal was no more than to be careless, wild and simply living in the means of rushing ecstasy. “Now that sounds like a challenge.” Tarn flirted lips close to the round ear. Voicing dropping low, “The only name you’ll need to remember is mine. Be it a whisper or a scream, it don’t really care. As long as it’s in euphoria.”
The hands once hovering fell. Light. Gingerly to brush thumb along slender jaw, “My tavern inner room is not far. In case you’re wondering.”
There was something irresistibly delicious about being wanted, and maybe it was a shallow sort of wanting that would be brief and fleeting, but it was plenty enough for Calia in that moment. To not think about anything outside of this tiny bubble of time just for a little while. All the warm breath and teasing touches were gladly reciprocated and what a nice thing to know that she as herself – no glamours, no nothing – was just as captivating as her little tricks.
“Then by the gods, why are we wasting out time tormenting you with dancing, when we could be off trying something you might be better at,” she declared, setting that challenge further that he was going to have to prove his skills in the bedroom were indeed far better than his poor attempts at keeping a rhythm to music! Having plenty more ways to tease and taunt further on that front, but that was far better done with the shield of privacy to illicit all her preferred reactions.
Calia took grasp of his hand, pulling back enough to signal that they were done with this dallying about and he was to lead the way. Not bothering to shoot a look to the drow at the bar, only giving a quick salute of two fingers in the air as a gesture that she was taken care of for the night and Rhelic could wander off as she pleased!
There was hardly any fight or excuse he could give that would sway away the idea of abandoning the bar crawl for that of an intimate clashing of another. “Might be, guess I’ll really have to be sure you are left breathless for such a remark.” The elven man gave her a flashing confident grin. Stepping up to align his movement to be sure to hold fast with her own.
Even if there was a curious look from the drow at the fact they were leaving. Yet the being of dark flesh hadn’t bothered to move. Rather she seemed to settle back and converse further with the lingering Elre. After all there was a new motive in place and he hardly was about to let it slip through his fingers like sand. Adjusting pace so he could lead the way to that of the paid inn that he was using for the eve.