In which many mortals compete for the honour of a dance and the smile of a fairy.
"Mademoiselle, you appear introspective," a male voice speaks close to Constance. "Perhaps you may require some assistance? Certainly one so charming should not appear so ...", he pauses, his eyes taking an appreciative glance into those of the lady and his words seem to fail him for a moment. "If you would allow me an introduction, dear lady, I should be pleased to alleviate the duress of the moment."
Falcone produces a simple card, embossed only with the name, Mateo Falcone. Falcone is well tailored, tall and lithe. His bravura in this setting may be unconventional, but he presents himself with a social grace which mollifies the presumption of his approach.
"Perhaps, if the lady will permit," he smoothly follows, "she would allow me to enter my name upon her dance card ... for the March, yes?"
Constance takes Mateo's card with a warm smile. She reads it and slips it into her handbag, before turning to the charming man before her. "Alas, I fear I have no card of my own to reciprocate with. he conventions of human society are mostly lost on me, I must confess. I pray you forgive my unintentional discourtesy. It would be my honor to have you enter your name on my dance card. Or is it customary that I enter it myself? As I say, your social mores are complex, and not often taught to the ladies of the Forest," she says with a laugh that is like silvery bells in the wind. She smiles, and her forest green eyes grow deep and full of hidden mysteries. For an instant, while their eyes lock, the man can almost swear that within the depths he can see the forest of which she spoke. Her breath is scented lightly with pine, a natural condition, rather than an affectation.
With a sure hand Falcone inscribes his name onto the proferred dance card. The faint smile he holds while doing so may be a momentary amusement with the gondola floating lightly beside the enchanting lady...
Once again caught in the eyes of Constance, Mateo pauses, then remarks, " It shall be my pleasure to accompany you to the dance floor, dear lady. ...And I should offer my service on any matters of human customs or dance as you may require."
In a light conversation about dance, music and social salons in Paris, Mateo follows the lady's interests and on occasion suggests some curiousities of his own about how the Faerie view these human recreations.
Constance is pleased to walk with the charming Falcone, and has a ready supply of questions about the social mores of the Grand Ball, the ins and outs of etiquette that surrounds such events like fog surrounds a moor.
At various points, the Dame Verte finds herself approached by
a variety of young men, each seeking a dance. Some she accepts, others
she deftly and politely discourages with a soft word and a smile that leaves
the rejected applicant smiling himself. When others approach Constance
to fill in her dance card, Mateo demurs gracefully, but he gives
a glance at each, taking a measure tactfully like a fencer surveying the
gymnasium as he first enters.
Constance smiles warmly, green eyes filled with hidden depths. She extends a graceful hand to the handsome gentleman. "Of course, sir. How may I be of assistance?" she says, her voice melodic, like a nightingale's song.
Standing to the side of Lady de Forest, the Italian Falcone notes the Lieutenant's address to Constance, yet remains silent and motionless.
Constance turns to Falcone, suddenly recalling that she should introduce him. "Mateo Falcone, may I present...." she pauses, suddenly realizing she doesn't know the gentleman's name. She flushes prettily, and says "Forgive me, but I fear I don't know your name."
"Ah, Capitano Falcone. My apologies. I did not see you standing there." The Leutnant awaits Falcone's introductions.
"Good evening, Lieutenant," he responds with brevity and a broad smile. This dear lady has been kind enough to accompany me in the first dance and presently I am of a wonderful disposition."
The Leutnant pauses for a moment, looks at Falcone, looks at the Lady de Forrest, and then smiles broadly. "I am Leutnant Wilhelm von Locke, First Officer for the Parsifal. I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady de Forrest.
"Capitano Falcone, would you mind terribly if I borrowed the Lady de Forrest -- with the Lady's consent, of course -- for a brief moment. Just a small matter of ship's business. I promise I will have her back in time for the Grand March."
"The lady's choice in this matter is all that is important," responds Falcone as he faces Constance with a graceful maneuver that positions him before her. "As ever, dear lady, I shall be at your service," Falcone offers, "and for now the 'business of the ship' seems to demand your attendance."
Falcone then backs away, excusing himself.
Constance favors him with a graceful if somewhat unpracticed curtsey, and an extremely well-practiced smile. Then she turns to the good lieutenant. "Now, then , good sir. You say you have ship's business to discuss with me? I assure you I have not been using my gifts here within the confines of your airship." she says with a smile.
The Leutnant smiles. "Milady, you should not think your gifts are limited to your magical abilities." He lowers his voice slightly, so that no one may overhear. "I am in a bit of a quandary and I am hoping you may help. We have a passenger on board who will be attending the ball, but feels it would not be appropriate to dance due to his height, or, more appropriately, lack of. I myself think he would not have a problem if he danced with the more petite ladies, such as yourself, but he still seems reluctant. Though I am not certain, I think he may be a trifle shy and that is what is holding him back. The captain, the crew, and myself all want our passengers to have the grandest of times while on board, so I could not simply stand by knowing this gentleman's reluctance is impairing his enjoyment of this evening.
"What I ask of you is if you would consider saving an early dance for this gentleman. Perhaps we can pull him out of his shell so he too may enjoy tonight's gaiety."
Constance's smile brightens and warms magnificently at the unselfish request. "Of course, it would be my pleasure. But point him out to me, and I shall insist on a dance from him myself. However, I likewise insist that you pencil yourself in for one as well. Such a generous spirit is rare, and I would be honored to dance with one who possesses such a noble heart."
The Leutnant bows in thanks to the Lady de Forrest's generosity. "The honor would be all mine, Lady de Forrest. Indeed, I was hoping to ask you for a dance. However, I must defer to Capitano Falcone first. After all, I believe he was about to ask you for a dance himself before my interruption. I shall step aside a moment so that you and he can decide upon a dance.
"Ah, and before I forget, the dwarven gentleman's name is Antioch. I do not believe he has arrived yet."
As the Lieutenant finsihes his speech, Constance gives the slightest breath of a gasp. Her cheeks tinge just the smallest shade of pink, and for an instant it seems that the mask of gentility the Dame Verte wears slips just a bit. Then the moment is passed, and Constance is once again the smiling Faery Lady she has always been.
"Thank you, good sir. I believe the charming Capitano has laready
pencilled himself in. It would be my honor, if you would choose something
as well." She holds out her card. It appears that Falcone
has chosen the first dance as his own.
Falcone, observing Antioch's arrival and noting his card companion's distress, moves the greet him and bring him into the crowd.
"Antioch, goodfellow, how nice that you have arrived," begins Falcone in a warm and genuine manner. "Would you care to meet the most ravishing lady here tonight? I have just gotten her to accept my proposal to dance! Really, sir, you must allow me to introduce to the Dame Verte Constance."
Observing the much-welcome face of Mr. Falcone, Antioch approaches him immediately.
"Of course, good sir. It's good to see you again. Quite a change from the quiet of the smoking room, eh?"
Antioch pauses briefly to watch the swirl of color in the room. He's convinced his own attire is among the plainest, even if that is no where near the truth. I should be a bit more flamboyant, he thinks. Suddenly, Falcone's words seem to register.
"Pardon, sir. Did you say Dame Verte? A Dame Verte is here at the ball? Capital, sir, capital! Dame Verte Constance I believe you said. I'd be delighted to make her acquaintance. Thank you very much."
Constance spies the fine form of the young dwarf from across the crowded ballroom. She notes he cuts a fine figure of understated elegance. Very appropriate, she decides. All in all, he seems quite the dashing and well bred figure, no doubt from a very good line.
Constance wonders briefly why her feet haven't obeyed her command to start walking over. Puzzling. She wants to go over and invite him to sign her dance card, but somehow, she isn't going. She feels a flush in her cheeks, and even realizes she feels a little faint. Her fingers are shaking lightly. Strange. Perhaps she is coming down with some human disease? Impossible. Come now, feet, let us be off. We promised to dance with the charming and handsome young dwarf, and we shall not be oath-broken. She mentally chides her reluctant feet.
Am I....nervous?
Ridiculous!
My, what a handsome fellow he is...
Steeling herself, regaining her composure, she glides across the room to stand before the elegantly dressed dwarf. "Pardon me, good sir, but might I request that you dance my sign card? I mean sign my dance card!"
My, it is certainly warm in here tonight.
Mateo is pleased to see the the Dame Verte receptive to his acquaintance Antioch. Social coups are so... Well, things should go well for the new association at least.
"Dear lady, I perceive the introductions are inevitably satisfactory and I shall not intrude further. I shall await with pleasure our initial dance this evening," he comments as he bows gracefully to the side. "One should never stand in the way of amore," he recollects...
Antioch nods toward the swiftly disappearing Mr. Falcone, his eyes never leaving Constance. "Yes," he mumbles, almost under his breath. "Thank you, sir. Of course, I'm much obliged."
He lapses into silence almost staring Constance. "Your most humble servant, ma'am," he finally manages to stammer in something approaching passable French. His mind promptly locks down, like a poorly oiled machine from his father's workshop. He can think of absolutely nothing else to say until he catches the strains of music. Of course, he realizes, we're at a dance.
Trying to recover, he offers his most charming smile. "Would you be so kind as to favor me with a dance?"
Constance is taken by the deep and soothing tones of his voice, the almost musical sound, the gruff and strong way he speaks. Then she realizes he has asked her a question. She flushes, and tries to remember what he has said. Dance. Something about a dance....oh yes! He wants a dance! "Of course, sir, it would be my pleasure."
Her hands shaking somewhat, she presents her card for him to pencil himself in. She wonders why she can't just have him sign the whole card? It is probably rude or something. Humans. They made absolutely everything rude, it seems....
Antioch gladly accepts the dance card while looking into Constance's eyes. Thinking of nothing suitably charming to say, he keeps his smile locked in place. Tearing his eyes away from the vision before him, Antioch quickly scans the card and and reachs into his pocket for his fountain pen. The writing instrument is based on a Waterman design from Nantes, France, however, Antioch crafted this pen himself prior to his departure from Sweden. It's more reliable and less likely to leak on his limited waredrobe. Without wasting a stroke, he writes his name in the first available slot, taking little regard for the dance-type or his ability. Pausing a moment then adds his name to the last dance of the evening. Decorum should allow me these two dances he thinks to himself as he passes the card back with a bow.
Constance takes the card back, and favors Antioch with a warm smile.
She is pleased to see that he has taken the final dance, which means she
will have an excellent chance to talk with him later, after the dancing
is done. It has been long since she has spoken to anyone who is of
her people, and the Daoine seems quite content not to make her acquaintance.
"Thank you, Antioch. I will look forward to our dances with anticipation,"
she says with a coquettish grin.
"If I may be so bold, Captain Falcone, I have a question. As you seem the best choice to query on a matter of some interest to me, I thought perhaps you might indulge me. I recall reading that the use of Faerie powers, Sorcery, and the like would be harmful to the operations of this ship. I find it difficult to forgo the use of the powers that are so much a part of my nature, that I fear an accident, should my concentration waver. Perhaps you could help by telling me why such restrictions are needed, and what might happen in the event someone should make an error in judgement, and draw magic onboard an airship."
Falcone has taken his post as the partner of Lady Constance. His attentions are all but for a moment or two upon her. At her prompting, Mateo makes a slow nod of his head and replies, " I regret that the world of the Faerie is a mystery to me and that includes the arts of Sorcery and such. As to the safety of the vessel, the ship's own staff would better serve your purpose."
In a brief pause, Mateo considers a bit of redirection and begins a new topic. "However, I am more at ease with the nature of human and Faerie relations, and perhaps more so with the affairs of the human heart," he whispers conspiratorially, " and in that field of competence I am more adept...at least enough to notice your interest in dear Antioch. I am most happy to see the results of my introduction."
As the dance forms, Mateo takes the pause to query Lady Constance on the purpose of her travels in the human realms aboard an airship."
Constance blushes prettily at the suggestion that she is taken with the dashing Dwarf. She fans herself to hide the blush, and finds herself curiously at a loss for words for a moment. Thus it is with relief that she takes up his change of conversational direction.
"I find myself pursuing an object of great import to the Faerie world, one that leads me across strange places. This airship is the most efficient means to reach my goal. I would prefer to utilize my own talents to travel, but it is likely this lovely ship is faster, and I have never before had a chance to partake in such decadent splendor among mortals. Truly, this device is a marvel of craftsmanship, although it does not have enough wooden craftings for my taste, and far too much metal." She smiles to show that she jests.
[Missing post(s) from Constance and/or Mateo.]
"My brother is powerful in sorcery, even for a mortal, and his blood
is strong against Cold Iron, as mine is not. His weaknesses are only
those of any mortal, and his strength are sorcerous and mighty."
"Your brother, Lady Constance?" queries Mateo. " How is he an inconvenience to you? Yet, you say he is mortal and a sorcerer. Is he aboard the ship presently?"
"It is my brother who first stole the Seed, and now seeks it again. It is his blood that leads me to him. I do not believe he is onboard the ship, for surely I would have felt him. His blood, scattered on the Veil is strong. He will certainly kill me, if he can. Is that inconvenience enough?" she says, her eyes downcast, her tone sad. She fingers a small little statuette she has been carrying about, an antique looking goddess figurine. Since first you saw her, she has never been without the item.
Falcone is silent for a few moments, but alert, attentive and patient. As Constance continues to ascribe dire deeds to her brother and further explains that her very life may be at jeopardy, he boldly holds her hand in his own. "I should comfort you, dear Lady, yet I see no resolution to your cause but the diligent pursuit of the thief that your brother has sadly become by this own atrocity. This much I can promise, if his mortality is the price that must be paid for your safety and the return of that which you obviously hold dear, then I would make him pay in full. I should be thought detestable for suggesting such a thing, but I would endure that pain to see you through your distress," he exhorts.
Mateo's voice is smooth and unstressed. His eyes are attentive, but unthreatening. His hand is firmly held out with that of Lady Constance resting upon it. In that moment, he is a man of action, a soldier seeking sanction from Lady Constance that he might take up her cause.
Constance graces Falcone with a warm and intimate smile. "Thank you for your kind offer. I would be honored to have your assistance in this matter. And indeed, it does involve the human world as much as the Faerie realm. For if the Seed is planted in the Dark soil of the Unseelie Realm, then they6 shall have the knowledge and the power of the Grandfather Oak, power enough to shift the balance to their side for a Faerie season. The Faerie realm would be changed greatly, but your own realm would see an immense increase in the number of dark and unpleasant Faerie traversing the Veil to plague and torment mortalkind."
Without fully comprehending the terrors which follow the trepedations of Unseelie, Mateo understands that a grave business is at hand. What darkness lies across the path of Constance will need a diligent champion, a task for which Mateo believes himself eminently suited in the mortal realm.
"Lady Constance, I shall endeavor to answer any challenge put
before you. Consider me your ally in this matter." As
the dancers pass along, Mateo once again looks to the crowd.
To
Be Continued...