Azazel Ballroom

Being the shadow elemental she was, Genevieve could not help but smile momentarily at the deep shadows in the ballroom. The icy feel agreed with her, having been raised in the cold of Mystenia's snowy mountains and lakes.

Despite the elegant occasion, she had done nothing special with her gown or hair, having swatted her ladies' hands away from her long pale tresses and worn a dark grey gown. A new one would have pleased her ladies, but she was not in the habit of doing whatever pleased them. The dress was simple, tight at the waist and long, so that its fading train pooled on the floor behind her feet. The neckline scooped but was decent. She was a widow after all; and not interested in attracting unwanted attention. Her sleeves dripped nearly to the floor, hiding the self-inflicted injuries on her arms... the main reason her ladies maids had finally agreed on the dress.

Accompanied by two ladies and two guards, for reasons that defied logic, Genevieve gently lifted her heavy skirt slightly and entered the ballroom's open doors.

"The Dowager Queen." Elektra felt Count Fersen hiss against her ear.

"I am not blind..." She bit back, glaring slightly as they approached the older woman to greet her, arm in arm, though Fersen's grip was much tighter than Elektra was comfortable with.

"Your Highness," Fersen bowed in greeting and respect, pulling Elektra down with him so that she may do the same in a curtsy.

Elektra fought the urge to openly roll her eyes at Fersen as she curtsied, gently holding a part of her dress in her hand. As her usual, and as custom, her dress was black, however it was a stark contrast to the Dowager Queen's, when it should have been quite similar as they were both widows. Only the color was wholly appropriate, as Elektra had opted to wear a tight, sleeveless, strapless corset top gown that clung to her figure, flaring slightly at the hips, barely grazing the floor, revealing a bit more than may be appropriate. Her attire, followed by her raven locks, half of which was swept up, the other portion, grazing her back and the front of her shoulder, gave a rather questioning take on the term "grieving widow".

"I am happy that you could make it." she offered to the Dowager Queen, adding her own spin on a traditional line of courtesy that had for so long been hammered into her head during childhood. "Great joy, and good fortune to you, your grace."

Genevieve nodded in return. Her position as Dowager Queen and the mother of King Oberon did not force her to bow to nobles, not to mention she may not have been able to both curtsey and return to a standing position, even with her staff.

"And the same to you, Duchess." Genevieve murmured, her tone indifferent. The greeting was ironic in her opinion. There was no joy and no foreseeable good fortune in Genevieve's eyes.

The younger widow's attire raised both eyebrows of her ladies maids, but Genevieve ignored it. After all, it was the younger woman's own personal decision how she dressed and in youth, came the desire for freedom...

"I trust you are well?" she asked, falling into the customary pattern of needless conversation.

Elektra winced at the title thrown to her, digging her nails into Fersen's arms, causing his features to contort slightly in pain. She loathed when the royals referred to her as "Duchess", opting to forgo recognition that she was born a Princess and was of the same rank as half of them. Not wanting to start a scene, particulalry with the King's own Mother, Elektra nodded in reply, forcing herself to keep calm.

"Quite." she replied with a half-smile that soon blossomed to a real one, as her thoughts drifted to the ball surrounding them, in particle the appearance of one certain guest who's company Elektra valued higher than all the other guests combined.

"And yourself?" she asked politely, smirking slightly at the raised eyebrows of the lady's maids.

Terrible and contemplating suicide was hardly the answer, Genevieve decided, although it was the truth. Depressed... lonely but not desiring company...
"Lovely." she finally decided on, not smiling and therefore allowing the single word to carry well that it was empty.

Her blue eyes swept the growing assembled. She was already growing tired to her horror; cursing the arrow and its barbs to the lowest pit of hell.
"And now that we have dispensed with those pleasantries which fall upon us as members of royalty... You being a princess and I having no official rank save through my son and frozen blood, shall we not find a seat?" she smiled rather coldly back at her guards, who took her statement as an invitation to hurry and find her a seat.

Elektra raised an eyebrow at the Dowager's response, not entirely convinced, but not feeling the need to meddle. "Lovely to hear."

"There is a seat for you and your family over there, your Grace," Fersen added, gesturing to the group of seats sitting in a slightly elevated area, in the center of attention, to view the entire room with ease. "The Guest of Honors Seating Area, your Grace." he replied, leading the way.

"Shall his Majesty be on his way soon?" Elektra asked with a neutral tone.

Of course it would be in the centre of the room... it had to be elevated... She did not voice these thoughts however, as she followed (Count) Fersen to the seating area, nodding to various guests, who bowed and curtseyed as she passed. It was both uplifting and yet crushing to be the object of reverence. If they lived in an ideal world, which they did not... she was certain that royalty would be made of those worthy of the title... not hollow dying souls like herself and manipulative fretting ones like those bowing to her.

"Yes, I believe so." she murmured in reply, seating herself. Lady Hillara immediately draped a thick shawl over Genevieve's shoulders, not wanting her mistress to catch a chill in the freezing room. For her effort she received an indifferent glance and she retreated to find a drink to serve the queen.

Elektra ignored the various looks the other Nobels bestowed upon her. Half of them were close friends of Posol and had never liked her, which, honestly, she could care less about. In fact, it was rather amusing, not to mention satisfying to see half of them to still be bound to an unhappy marriage. She smirked in reply to the envy she could see in the wive's eyes, spurred by Elektra's newly gained freedom and independance.

She nodded in reply to Elektra's statement. "Lovely."

"My lady," Lady Hillara murmured offering Genevieve a goblet of rich red wine. Only years of wearing a mask kept her face from draining. It looked exactly like the very poisoned wine she had helped Wodon drink. Catching herself staring at the goblet, Genevieve took it from the woman, her hand shaking ever so slightly.

"How long has it been since the Duke's death?" Genevieve asked, neither interested or curious, but polite nonetheless.

Princess Cara and Prince Liam stepped into the Ballroom first there mother and father right behind them.

Cara was wearing a deep green ball and gold trim, her hair was up and had gold colour beads in it, along with her gold and ruby tiara. She sighed, she hated these formal parties, the dress was uncomfortable and the clips in her head held her hair up.

Liam snickered at his sister, she was always running every where and was grouchy when her dress was able to stop her.

He was wareing a simple suit and his small crown.

"Won't be that bad Cara Bara, could be fun" he said with a smirk.

Cara rolled her eyes "Easy for you to say you are not wareing the awful dress." she said with a frown...

Then she rasied her eye brows, "You aren't planning anything silly are you Li?" she whispered.

Cassie smiled and shock her head a her children, perhaps the should have left them home... but they were Royals the needed to get used to these parties.

Oberon stood beside Cassandra, directly behind their children, and couldn't help but smile slightly at the pair. He could see Cara was uncomfortable in her formal dress and hair pins. Nothing extraordinary had been done with his hair aside from it being a bit more smoothed out due to the crown he wore atop his head. Like his son, he too was wearing a fine suit. Though, he also wore an ornate cape of dark blue, with gold and jewels sewn and embroidered into the cloth.

With a subtle turn towards his wife, Oberon muttered quietly so only she and their children might hear, "Perhaps next time we should arrange for Liam to wear the dress..." It was obviously a joke, by the very quiet laughter that punctuated the suggestion.


-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --


Iago had been in the ballroom a grand total of once since Elektra's renovations. Thus he knew where a few of the choicest shadows dwelt so that he might forego the crowds at the door and simply teleport in. It wasn't his favorite means of magic, but it was convenient when the circumstance allowed. First moment, he was gazing fondly at the music box in his guest chambers that once belonged to his mother...

... and then found himself amidst a curtain of shadow within the ballroom, his gaze now fixed upon the Duchess Elektra. It didn't really matter if anyone seen him, he just preferred to not make the fact that he knew magic known until the appropriate moment.

Without further dalliance, Iago stepped out from behind the curtain and made his way toward Elektra without appearing to be in too great a hurry.

"A year." Elektra replied in a rather happy note, colored with a sigh of bliss. She realized the Dowager Queen was inquiring merely for the sake of conversation, but didn't mind. After all, she'd rather talk to the Dowager Queen than stand alone, watching others glare and gossip about her. However, before she could add on anything else, she heard and felt Fersen whisper against her. "The Royals have arrived." as well as pull her towards them, leading her by the arm.

Elektra curtseyed slightly, whispering her excuses with a smile. However, the smile disappeared instantly upon seeing the royals. She had anticipated the Royal Couple, strictly the King and Queen. What stood before her was everything she had been denied: a royal family, composed of not only two people who loved each other deeply, but children as well. Children.

Despite bearing a startlingly pale complexion, Elektra paled even more at the sight. It was only with Fersen's guidance and arm that she was able to cross the remaining distance towards the royal family and curtsy.

"Your Majesties, welcome to Azazel. It is a pleasure to see you have arrived safely. All of you." she replied, her voice breaking ever so slightly as she gazed as the two children with a hint of longing glittering in her sapphire orbs. Not wanting to lose her control in front of the Royals, she quickly excused her self, dropping into a curtsy. "Pardon me, I must soon prepare for the dance." before grabbing Fersen rather roughly, yet discreetly, dragging him off with her .

Fersen followed obediently, not daring to fight against Elektra now. Not when she was this angry. While she managed to disguise her emotions fairly well, Fersen had the advantage of having known her since she was an infant. He could tell that she was barely keeping her temper in check.

Sure enough, the moment they reached a slightly shadowed region of the ballroom, Elektra's hand made harsh contact with the side of his face, causing a rather loud smack to echo as well as a sharp cry of pain emitted from his vocal chords. Luckily, the musicians had begun to play so not every occupant of the ballroom heard the assault.

"What is the matter with you?!?" Elektra hissed, her composure slipping rapidly, as though it were a great tapestry coming undone. "I told you specifically to inform the royals that it was a ball strictly and specifically for adults only. Not children!" she breathed in shakily as she paced back and forth in front of him, tears beginning to fill her sapphire orbs. Elektra could handle many things, as far as sorrow was concerned. However, not when it came to matters such as this. Not when it concerned something she longed for. It was like a slap in the face to the sorceress, to have what she desperately longed for, danglng before her.

"I can't handle this... You know I can't have children near me, you blundering cretin!" she replied softly, a few tears managing to fall, as she struggled to keep the others in bay. Glaring through her tears, Elektra slapped him again, this time on the other side, as though the action would cure her problems. It didn't, of course, but it still helped, seeing someone else in pain.

It was rather easy for Fersen to keep track of the number of times he had seen Elektra cry. Particularly because this was the first time. Despite knowing her since she was an infant, never had he seen her give in to emotion, and wear her heart on her sleeve. Compassion and sympathy stirred within the Ambassador, despite the stinging blows on both sides of his face. "Khariza..." he whispered, with a slightly pleading tone in his voice. He hadn't really much choice or control over the situation, yet he couldn't help but feel guilty nonetheless. "What was I to tell them? 'Oh yes, sire, I do hope you and the Queen may attend, but please, leave the tots at home, will you?' ?"

"Yes!" Elektra hissed indignantly.

Fersen sighed in response, a bit at a loss as to what to tell her. Honestly, what did she expect from him? He was rather skilled in diplomacy and using his communication skills to his advantage, but he was at a loss exactly how to tell a King to ditch his children at home. At least, he wasn't sure of a way that didn't result in him being decapitated. "Khariza, you are young. There is still plenty of time for you and this wish of your's to come true. In fact, just last month, your brother was discussing possible suitors for you. Many suitors." He added in an optimistic note, hoping to brighten her mood. Fersen had no idea of Elektra's feelings for Iago, and truly thought this bit of news would be of comfort and joy.

Sapphire orbs narrowed into slits, resembling pieces of chipped ice, burning with various emotions, stemming from the complex enigma known as Elektra. "Is that so, Ambassador? Well then tell my brother that he and all his suitors can go to hell! If I do remarry, It will be of a man of my choosing! I served Caraklein's interest with my first marriage. I have done more than enough of what is my duty!" she hissed before storming off. She took a moment to summon her mask of indifference, however, as always; it did nothing to conceal the myriad of emotions in her eyes.

Fersen sighed in frustration, closing his eyes in an effort to ward off the headache threatening to take over. "Caraklein does not pay me nearly enough gold for this job..."

Remembering the Royal Family who Elektra had left, Fersen quickly approached them, bowing once to each of them. "Great joy and fortune to you all, your Majesties. I do hope the voyage went well. I realize the new surroundings may be a bit of a shock to you, and not quite what you are used to." Fersen commented as he led the way towards the center where their seats were.

Genevieve nodded as the duchess murmured polite excuses and left to greet Oberon and Cassandra. She stayed seated however, deciding that sooner or later her son would make his way to her, or not, either being fine. Her grandchildren received a small smile as she lifted her her cup to her lips.

The red liquid splashed toward and she closed her eyes, pulling the goblet down. It was too much like blood. The ladies maids took the cup and she rose from her seat, in need of some air.

"May I have this dance, my lady?" an older nobleman asked, boldly offering her his arm. Genevieve hesitated a moment before slipping her gloved hand into his. She had not danced since Oberon's wedding to Cassandra.
"Yes, thank you." She stiffened as a hand curled around her waist. The simple yet elegant steps to the dance allowed the noble to hold her much to close for her comfort, her eyes boring into his chest.

"How is your arrow wound, my lady?" he asked, the hand in hers tightening slightly as he turned in step.
"Lovely..." she replied, eyes never leaving his chest.

Elchanan slipped in behind his nephew, and hid in the shadows to go hopefully un noticed. He.. for the most parts disliked parties, just another ecxuse for people to annoy him..

Much like the noble danceing with his queen, she looked very uncomfortable in his hold, honestly couldn't the man tell he was holding her way to close for some approriate.

He shook his head and walked up to the dancing... couple.

"Mind if I cut in?" he asked eyeing the Noble, with a shape glance. Hinting that he had better let him or the would be hell for him to pay.

The noble's questions soon left the range of health and grandchildren, heading with racing speed toward the possibility of Genevieve remarrying. She was saved from answering his last awkward question by Elchanan's rather sharp interruption. Never had a voice sounded more lovely to Genevieve than Elchanan's at that moment.

Despite the fact that the noble obviously did mind, he did not want to offend King Oberon's uncle and therefore released Genevieve, giving a short bow to her.
"Thank you." Genevieve whispered, as the noble headed off to find someone else to pester. "I do believe you saved the Sir Rava's life." she jested, her dry humour matched by her lack of smile.

Elchanan almost chuckled at the Dowager Queen's comment, though there was an amused spark in his eyes.

"His behavior was annoying me " he offered as short explaination."He was being very rude, I apologise for him" he stated.

"Do not. A fool has no right for an honourable man to speak for him." As Elchanan had "cut in", Genevieve found she did not mind the idea of dancing with him. True she had known him since he had entered her father's palace to be her husband's proxy, but now there was a sense of peace. No pity reflected in his fathomless eyes, just a hint of amusement. No lust or desire, just peace.
"How have you been?" she asked, her already soft voicing dropping to a mid-whisper.

Elchanan thought for a moment, one on had asked him that.... in well forever.

" I am well, nothing of worth to complain about anyway" he said, it was a honest answer, but really he couldn't dream of burdening her with any of his problems, now she had enough worries in her life.

"Your self?" he asked still gently guideing her across the ball room, slowly and he held her loosely in what he hoped was a comfortable for her, he had not danced with another since well.. since Oberons second wedding and by chance Oberons young bride ended up his partner for a short while until Oberon cut back in.

"Night is replaced with day." she murmured in reply, choosing to subtly skirt around the question. There were enough terrible thoughts brought to mind by the things she saw... she did not need to speak of it. Not now anyway. Elchanan was comforting by his solid presence. And she found she felt safe within his arms. He was very different from his older brother. Wodon had been a lively dancer and a witty conversationalist. However, their dancing had been limited. The king never left a party without dancing with every woman there... and Genevieve had only been the first of the many. At the time she had not found anything significant in this fact until after his death. She began to see that in Wodon's life, she had not even had the same position as the dances. She had not been his first or his last... only one he passed by.

"If only others took your example. I fear the court is far too concerned with their own worries."

Elchanan nodded in understanding, "I know, I hear many of there problems and complaints. you would think they fix it then bring it to courts... Of most of them are trivial and if I may say over exaggerated. Do not let them burden you" he said smoothly.

Then he whispered to her as if letting her in on a secret, "I do not"

However as he thought about it, he found he would be relieved to more then anything if the quiet Queen infornt of him hold him her worries and heartache, she vauge responses worried him that she was in great pain, but hiding it a great deal better then most would.

"However if one I should see as worth while has a heavey heart... I would not object to hear them out" of course there were very few people he truly thought worth while. That one person was in his arms right there.

Genevieve nodded, remaining silent as she listened. It startled her that she had never viewed Elchanan as such a wise man before. No doubt he had been left many times with a kingdom upon his shoulders while Wodon flitted from his sons to a meaningless battle.

His whispered statement caused her eyes to widen briefly in quickly hidden surprise. There seemed to be something else in the simple whisper. Did he mean he did not let the troubles burden him...or that he did not let them burden her? The first, she decided, was more probable. But the latter... she shivered mentally. Few had ever truly cared for her. She knew her sons did, despite her lack of affection shown to them in return. And Wodon had always been her deepest love, even after his betrayal and death. Besides those three men... there was no one else, had been no one else. No fatherly love ever deeper than shown for a petulant child.

Berating herself for even thinking of the second thought, Genevieve gave Elchanan a rare sincere smile. "Truly such a person, to be held as worthy of your time, should be held in great peace." she murmured, not thinking of herself, but thinking that Elchanan doubtless had another whose heart he cherished.

Elchanan captured her smile to memory, never before had he seen her smile so truly since the death of his damned brother, and to make it even more valuable she smiled at him. Dazed for a second at the thought, then his right injured leg almost gave out, but thank the lords he recovered the step in time and continued on if nothing ever happened.

"I agree, I hope and pray everynight that she is" he said quietly.

His thumb on his right hand moved, only for a second feeling her skin, he merely could have been adjusting his hand, but perhaps it was a guesture, a hint, but that was all in the eyes of the beholder.

However if one looked closely the would have seen the small true smile on his lips on the is normally never releaved to just anyone, reserved for someone truly specail indeed.

Genevieve's breath caught in her throat and for a full moment she was lost in Elchanan's emerald eyes. The recovery took her far longer than was proper and she tightened her grip on the edge of her gown, which she held daintily as they danced according to correct dance position. The catch in her breath she hid under a guise of exhaling softly, a mistress of shadow finding herself lost in the brilliance of a suddenly uncovered light.

Cursing herself for finding herself wishing she was the woman in his thoughts, Genevieve found herself lost for words. Wodon had often whispered loving phrases about her beauty, his love for her and countless other tidbits of emotion, but Elchanan's simple prayer held more sincerity and elegance than any poet had ever written.

Her chin trembled slightly as he, doubtless, unconsciously brushed the uncovered palm of her hand as he shifted his fingers. Her eyes dropped from his as she laboured to continue breathing normally. The gentle clasp of hands as between to dancers was almost more than she could bear suddenly. As if the floor beneath her had fallen away, leaving her to dangle over a darkened abyss with only his hand holding her from death. Her heart began to race and she closed her eyes, willing herself not to blush red.

Lifting her eyes back to his after what appeared to be only a brief moment in time, though it had been a lifetime for Genevieve, she caught his small smile and felt herself lost to her stern attempts to remain stoic. She had fallen not into a dark hell, but been lifted from it by the most unlikely of people... Wodon's shadow. Outwardly nothing had changed, but inwardly, the crushed heart slowly felt itself allowed to hope, even if it was a fool's hope.

Knowing she should say something, before Elchanan thought she had drifted away, she searched for a topic of conversation and found nothing.
"Indeed." was all that came to mind and all she said. But there, for a moment in time, her every thought was reflected in her bleeding eyes.

Elchanan observed his dance partner and secret love as she seemed to struggle to control her emotions. He hoped he had not distressed her, he truly wish he hadn't. He held his breath looking for any sign she was upset, or tired from dancing. He saw her trembling chin and her eyes close, oh dear gods no.. please don't let tear come from those tears on account of him.... No he couldn't bare that.

But thank the lords when she had opened her eyes to his with not tears in them.

Her deep beautiful eyes shone so many emotions he could not being to catch them all, he so wanted to hold her closer, to kiss her right there. But he knew right now was not right, with all these people and with there relationship as it was it would not be right. He feared it would do more harm then good in this case.

"There are times when I wish my prayer would answered quicker, however..." he quietly so only she could hear him.

"I fear there are days and nights she is in pain or in chaos and she doesn't see a hope standing right in front of her" he said in a low voice. Though it felt like they were the only two in the whole room.