Brenda
High up in the balcony of the second floor hidden by the shadows of the long purple banners stood Lord Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws for the kingdom of Lazaroth. Long and far from home was the councilor, but it was worth it in his eyes. Dressed in a blood red suit that hugged the tall lord's form, buttons were clasped across his chest and a cloak hung from his back and shoulder. The cloak was long, barely an inch above the floor so as not to trip him or anyone that may have walked behind him. A black belt wrapped around Lysanthir's waist, though no weapons were found upon it. The collar on his suit rose high around his neck, but no so much so that it made him look ridiculous, just enough to make Lysanthir look a bit more mysterious and terrifying all at once. Finally, the boots 'round his feet rose up to his shins, a great contrast to the blood red of the majority of the rest of his outfit. In his hand, a metal goblet of deep red wine, reminiscent of the liquid that kept him so full of life.

Lysanthir nearly looked like a statue, though if not for his outfit many who passed him by may have very well believed he was. None from the ballroom floor would be able to see him, allowing the lord to remain relatively alone and unbothered as he listened to the music from the stage. Each performance was different from the last, and while one might believe a musical connoisseur such as Lysanthir would scoff at such displays, the vampire knew each was important to the artist performing which he admired deeply. After all, Lysanthir was a bard at heart.
_ _

For a moment, the visions turned into bliss. The smell of Calitherien, her smile, her mannerisms and habits of flooding back to Lysanthir's mind. She could never speak, but she could tell a story with a simple look. Faint tears began to from in the corner of the councilor's eyes, and for a few fleeting second he was home. Calitherien was there beside him as she had always been, and even through the loss of their child she smiled for him. Only for him. The aching in Lysanthir's heart only grew, and yet he was forced to live forever with such torment.

Finally, the visions of Calitherien receded and Caleesi remained her golden haired self. Now, all the councilor could do was stare and watch as the Grandmistress enjoyed the ballroom and music. Lysanthir wished to descend to her, perhaps attempt to talk to her without frightening her... But before he could even remotely decide what to do with himself, the music died down and a new presence arrived on the stage. For a moment, Lysanthir ignored it, but when the individual began to speak he finally dragged his ice-like gaze off of Caleesi and to the stage. Furrowing his brow, the vampire listened, but what he heard made his blood boil.

*"I hope you enjoy the tune, grandmaster."*
_ _

Lysanthir's nostril's flared with anger, but he tried his best to compost himself. For all he knew, the little man upon the stage was nothing more than a friend to the grandmistress. That was all. *A friend.* Sipping his wine, Lysanthir's eyes never left the songbird as he sand his tune. Eventually he cast he gaze back to the grandmistress, and the way she smiled and began to sway caused Lysanthir's hands to tremble. What was their relationship? Who was this little songbird to her? Back and forth the vampire's eyes danced, gauging both Caleesi and the performer's expressions and movements like watching a clock tick by. 

Soon enough, the songbird's song came to a close and Lysanthir's demeanor slowly began to calm down once more. Breathing more calmly, the councilor watched quietly with darkened eyes, his once ice-blue gaze now much darker, like the deepest part of an ocean. But when the songbird chose to leave the stage and head towards Caleesi, Lysanthir's heart raced once more. *Thumpthump, thumpthump, thumpthump.* Faster and faster it beat, and all Lysanthir could do was watch as the man that had just serenaded the grandmistress placed his grimy claws upon her form. Touching her shoulder, her face, her hair- *And then his words reached the law master's ears.* With hearing like that of a bat, Lysanthir could make out ever breath the two breathed and ever word the two spoke. Calling her *Beautiful?* Touching her like she belonged to him? No- NO! She belonged to-
_ _

Without realizing it Lysanthir had bent the goblet in his hand so much that wine had begin to spill from its rim unto the floor. The lord's breathing had turned ragged with rage, and his entire body seemed to tremble. Thankfully no one was near when it had happened, and all those below him could not see or hear him for the time being. The vampire's eyes had become just as red as the wine and his outfit, but a bit darker than usual. All Lysanthir could think of now was sinking his teeth into that damned little bird and bleeding him dry. The two had begun to dance, and all the poor man could do was watch in fury and disbelief. How dare he touch her. How dare he speak to her in such a way.

It took everything, ever fiber of the man's nerve to not whisk Caleesi away. To shove that songbird into the marble floor of the ballroom. Nevertheless, he stood and watched helplessly as his heart screamed at him to go to her, while his head raged at him to take her away. And so, with nothing more than a heavy heart filled with rage and misery, Lysanthir watched on, unable to do anything but stare. As he watched, the vampire raised a hand and the wine he had spilled began to dance upward. The goblet in his hand soon began taking its original form, and was then filled with the spilled alcohol from before. Opening his hand, the goblet disappeared completely in a faint snap.
Edwin
A swirl of black shadow billowed to life behind Lysanthir, seemingly impenetrable despite the efforts of the festive lighting. From its depths emerged his queen, wrapped in champagne silk, sauntering from her inky entrance. At last the light washed over her, its warm glow illuminating the drow's dark skin, glinting off her adornments. A ribcage of glittering gold encased her own, fitting snugly to her waist. Along her bare back ran the remnants of a spine, framed by gold filigree like some macabre piece of art. Her amber eyes looked beyond her Master of Laws to the source of his fury. Following his gaze she found the answer to a question her and Corinthian shared.

"The reason for your absences, I assume?" As she spoke Ashira stepped forward to stand at his side, summoning a drink from a passing tray below, "I can certainly understand why.." She raised the glass to her lips, watching the woman dance over its rim. The longer she observed the stranger the more familiar she seemed, until finally realization twisted the queen's stony expression. *Calitherien.* The rage he emanated made far more sense now. He had said nothing to her, which caused a flare of indignation. Lysanthir knew her greatest secrets, her fears.. Brushing aside her own feelings, something she was quite accustomed to, Ashira turned to her magic.
_ _

From the enchantress poured a feeling of calm, gentle waves of reassurance and serenity. She inhaled deeply, masking her own relaxing breaths by lifting her drink once more. Her efforts were as much for herself as they were for her companion. The queen was deeply unfond of these events, and had managed to avoid them for many years. Her endless efforts to become a better ruler meant socializing however, and so here she was. It had been sometime since she had experienced an episode, but public appearances such as this brought her fears to the surface. With a harsh exhale she pushed her doubts aside, straightening at Lysanthir's side. Ashira raised her chin as she looked down upon those below.

"Do you want me to intervene? He could hardly say no to a royal's request to dance." This was how she showed her affection, managing simple gestures as she could. She fixed her amber gaze on him, a hint of warmth in her glowing eyes, expression otherwise frigid. Risking a dance was certainly better than risking Lysanthir carrying out whatever horrid thing he was likely considering doing. Her attention shifted to the couples twirling at the room's center, and she wondered briefly if she could even manage such elegance. Her grace in battle was unsurpassable, but on the dance floor? Her calm wavered momentarily, the effects of her doubt rippling out through her waves of magic. Ashira was confident in many things, but the glittering world of socialites was new and daunting. Her empty hand balled into a fist, nails biting her flesh, she would conquer this new obstacle as she did all others.
_ _

Leaving Lysanthir to consider her offer she sought out the third of their party, Corinthian. Her gaze flitted from one handsome, well dressed man to the next, seeking her Spy Master. He had permitted her the kindness, or perhaps pity, of teaching her to dance before Sorevelle. Asking for help had nearly choked the life from her, but she couldn't arrive unprepared. Part of her hoped the evening's first dance could be with familiar company, but she had lost Corinthian shortly after their arrival. Ashira finished her drink, draining the last of the liquid courage from her glass, before sending it away with a wave of her hand.
_ _
Gerald
A second black shadow of thick inky mist pooled on the left side behind Lysanthir and his Queen, Dhakashira. A heavy scent of fairie wine and fruit engulfed the higher level of the stairwell before a tall figure would emerge from it's shadow. Standing just a few inches shorter than his council-mate, Corinthian could be seen peering down over the balcony to whatever soul seemed to have been chewing on his dear friends' bones. The cruel lords' pupiless black eyes scoured from head to head until finally resting on a particular bottle blond- causing the golden magic swaying within the males eyes to dance in a dangerous tango. A wicked grin crawled along Corinthian's jaw as he flexed his muscle teasingly, eyes wavering back and forth between Lysanthir and his little obsession. It was true, she *Was* Beautiful. 

"Well, well, well, do my eyes deceive me, or did Yevina have a daughter?" Sucking air through his teeth, Corin shook his head slowly as he watched the pair dancing below. A low chuckle playing from his throat. He knew far too well of Lysan's absence as of late, but never would it occur to the elf that the old man had truly taken a liking to another soul. Slumping forwards, Corinthian braced his arms along the marble railing, his cold gaze trailing off to the rest of the room's surroundings. It was normal for the spy lord to be late to such frivolous festivities, however, it wouldn't be much of a party if the trouble maker didn't attend. In truth, with how the Master of Laws had carelessly handled his outburst, Corin pondered on if either of the boys would last the whole night here in Thyseer- After all... He too was looking for a certain female to seek out. 
_ _

Dressed in a far more darker attire than that of his co-workers, Corinthian donned simple black dress pants with a white blouse that opened up to show off his perfect skin. Gold chains decorated neatly against the shades of white, as well as the elegant black cape that wrapped around his shoulders- swirls of saffron dancing around the edges just like the magic wavering within his hollow eyes. Hungry, the cruel lord searched the ballroom for none other than princess Delsandra. As it was the only reason Corinthian attended within the first place. He hoped to have taken his arrival for her by surprise- eager to see her face rotting with the utmost irritation to his presence. With no sign of the eladrin just yet however, a long, exasperated frown now dragged the corners of Corin's mouth. He let out a *Huff* Of a sigh through his nose before bending back upon his two legs and snagging a goblet of own once a tray had lingered his way. "Do *You* Even know how to dance, Lysanthir? Ha- I'd love to see you get caught up on the dance floor..." 

Shooting a playful smirk towards Olagwyen to then rest on his queen, Corinthian bathed in the chaos that was unraveling before them. Even the look on Dhakashira's face was riveting to see given she hadn't gotten out into the party scene. Upon the queen's request however, Corin took a long swig of his wine before trailing his tongue along his teeth, silently snaking his way over towards her side as he spoke. "*No one* Could say no to you, my Queen." The Spy Master insisted with the pluck of the royals hand. Bending down by the waist, Corinthian planted his lips gently against Dhakashira's backhand, his eyes locked on her through the forefront of his brow all the while a sinister grin stretched his face. By no means was the councilman disrespecting his queen, but having a bit of fun nonetheless. For she knew of his playful nature more than anyone, and Lysanthir of course hated when Corinthian kissed ass in front of him. 
_ _
Brenda
The moment magic began to coalesce behind him, Lysanthir knew exactly who approached from his rear; the queen. Stiffening his jaw, the councilor didn't even need to glance her way to know who it was, as her scent alone was more than enough. At his side, Dhakashira spoke to him of his absences, the muscle in his jaw noticeably tensing at such a mention. Swallowing the dryness in his throat away, Lysanthir remained silent for the time being before a sudden wave of magic washed over him like a gentle breeze. Ashira's magic was strong indeed, as soon the tenseness in Lysanthir's muscles slowly faded away. The look on his face of disdain however, remained. 

"No need, your grace." Lysanthir's deep and commanding voice rolled out of his chest calmly, his eyes still glued to the she-elf far below them. "I've already spoken with some of the festival's coordinators and Princess Delsandra herself. Much to her irritation and reluctance, she's allowed me to-" Lysanthir stopped speaking the moment he felt more magically energy emerge beside him. Those wide, icy blue eyes quickly dulled when with nothing more than a gentle inhale he smelled the presence of councilor Corinthian. A sigh fell from his nostrils, the eladrin's comment causing the high elf to roll his eyes. "As a matter of face I do, councilor, though thank you for your concern in the matter." Shooting a glare towards the councilor, Lysanthir then looked back over to Ashira, his tone calming down significantly when addressing her.

_ _
"As I was saying, the princess has given me permission to perform a demonstration of sorts. A chance to show those lesser than ourselves the art of dance." Lysanthir's eyes once again shot over to Corinthian, but for only a second. As he finished speaking he felt Corinthian brush around him to the other side of the queen. Rolling his eyes, Lysanthir shook his head to himself as the eladrin plucked the queen's hand to kiss. When the Spy Master had finished kissing up to Ashira however, Lysanthir added on to his words from before. "I've- I've also requested a spot in the performance line-up. To sing." Looking down at the rings on his hands, it was more than obvious that Lysanthir was not only uncomfortable, *But nervous.*

Corinthian may not have known this, but Ashira most definitely would. Lysanthir, long before he became an immortal monster, was a singer at heart. He'd perform for his mute wife day in and day out, writing songs for her and performing them for her alone. Never before had the vampire sung in front of a crowd, though with the help of magic he intended to have the crowd's eyes elsewhere than on him. "It won't be till much later in the night however. As for now, I'll do the dance demonstration here shortly, after the Iron Stag performs in fact."
Edwin
The queen waited with her usual patience as the pair shot retorts like wicked arrows, always feigning intent to harm but never truly following through. A nuisance to one another, certainly, but they failed to exhibit the true vile feelings of honest enemies. At least in her presence. As Lysanthir continued she fixed her attention on him, the honey hues of her eyes catching the warm light.

"I look forward to it, as I look forward to all of your undertakings." Lysanthir was a man of many talents, he never ceased to impress his queen. Over the years she had picked up bits and pieces of his skills, but had not yet lived the many years required to perfect them all as he had. Before she could speak further on the matter Corinthian's roguish behavior stole her away. 

An equally sinister smile curved Ashira's lips as she looked down on her Spy Master, "Let's hope that remains true for our future endeavors.." Her plans were not focused solely on fanciful events, serious matters would soon follow. For now, however, the evening was to be enjoyed. As Corinthian stood straight once more, his hand parting from hers, she briefly pressed her own to his jaw. She reminded herself of the deep affection she felt for him, certain he would cause some trouble before the night's end, "Darling devil.." Ashira murmured affectionately, a soft sigh parting her lips. It was then that Lysanthir revealed further plans for the event, plans that immediately required all of her focus. 
_ _

The queen knew what this meant, the significance, the feelings it was likely evoking. She gave Corinthian a look, a single warning to tread carefully or risk her wrath. Ashira may have been uncomfortable amongst the many partygoers, wrapped in a too tight gown, unsure of what to do, but... There were no doubts, no hint of hesitation, when it came to the queen and how to effectively wreak violence. Whether a side effect of her longterm coupling with the Hym, or a natural trait, Ashira enjoyed that she was quite capable of causing harm. Perhaps it provided the sense of power she lost when the Hym entered her life, healed the helpless feeling it forced on her.

His nervousness traversed her magical connection, and in response she sent another surge of calm, "Your performance will be magnificent, and will make enduring all of this," She gestured to the happenings below with a flippant wave of her ringed hand, "Worth it." A genuine smile adorned her face, so unlike the impish look her and Corinthian had shared. Ashira didn't carry on beyond that. The queen had spoken her comfort, and felt it best not to dwell on the anxieties of such a tremendous task. Her hand strayed briefly toward him, fingers wrapping over his arm. She squeezed gently before retreating, the entrance of another royal reason enough to part from the current topic.
_ _

"The Iron King.." Lazaroth's queen closed the distance between herself and the balcony's railing, her hands settling atop its smoothly finished surface. With her time of forced solitude she could not recall the last time she had seen the Alynthi royal, certainly they had not been in one another's presence since his coronation. Since his father's passing. Pain shot through her chest, threatening to pierce her rapidly beating heart. The ache of loss. An eldritch sound began to build in her head, a horrid shriek that gave way to disquieting laughter. The Hym, amused by her anguish, pleased with its work. Her lids fell shut, encouraging focus. Ashira was immobile, save for a faint twitch along her jaw and the steady rise and fall of her chest. Deep, slow breaths invited calm as she battled the foul creature in the confines of her own mind. 

The voice of Alynthi's king failed to penetrate her thoughts. His words were merely a distant murmur, as though heard through water. Ashira fought to anchor herself, promptly and without incident. When the first note sounded it too was muffled, but she *Felt* It, a hum that resonated through her very core. She followed the ensuing sounds, confining the Hym to its prison, each resounding chime guiding her back to the ballroom. Her gaze fell upon an unexpected scene, a beautiful display that only grew more awe-inspiring as it progressed. Captivated by the masterful manipulation the queen remained still, until the final note. As King Astalios rose from his bow Ashira's hands met in applause, joined by all others who eagerly expressed their ardent appreciation of his performance.
_ _
Gerald
Truth be told, Corinthian didn't know much about Lysanthir's personal life. Definitely not as much as the Queen had known. Each time the Spy Lord had tried to sink his claws into the world of the vampire's past... He'd end up on a cold lead, or dead end. So naturally, when hearing about the Lawman's idea to perform, it did come as a shock to the eladrin. Raising a brow of curiousness towards both Ashira and Lysan, Corinthian stood back to his original height and crossed a firm arm over his chest- the other swirling wine within his goblet idly. '*Damn, he seems genuinely serious about this.'* Corin thought to himself as he observed Olagwyen. There was truly no form of sarcasm anywhere on the councilman's face but- *When was there ever?* While it certainly was all fun and games for the Cruel Lord, knowing his boundaries amongst his peers- especially within the presence of his queen no less- was something Corinthian could understand to a degree. "Well, Save some of the spotlight for the rest of us will you?" Speaking out cheerfully, Corin's tone held no bite to his words. It was his own way of telling his partner to have fun, do well, and most of all enjoy the night. Nodding off silently towards Lysanthir should the two's eyes meet, Corinthian couldn't help but think back to the woman he was seething over moments earlier. 

*Who was she to him?* 
_ _

Frustrated by the secrecy, Corinthian's attention was reeled back in by the hot touch of Dhakashira's loving hand tracing along the man's jaw. Snapping his black gaze back towards the Queen, the golden magic within his pupiless haze danced in a frenzy- Corin's smug grin disappearing by the rip of his silver cup as it tipped up to reach his lips. Never breaking their eye contact, the Spy Master tilted his head into the palm of his Queen as he licked his lips clean of any red liquor; that toothy white smile flashing to the words of such a dangerous nickname. No words needed to be said in those moments entangled with the woman, Corinthian knew how his night would unfold before it even began, and he was sure Ashira had a feeling for it as well. Nevertheless, the glare she poised next offered enough context for Coin to behave fro *Now.* And that he did.
_ _

Returning his focus forwards, the elven man relaxed his shoulders as he listened to the plans of the wolves unravel. Eagerly did the Cruel Lord's sights travel from section to section however, searching for the event of the night- *His* Event of the night so to speak. Tapping his finger along the steel of the goblet, Corin couldn't help the impatience of his temper, after all, if all were to fail tonight- there could be a chance of the Spy Master getting banned from Thyseer. Then all would know the dirty secrets of Corinthian... And that weighed too heavily on the man's shoulders. Nevertheless, the need to search out Delsandra wasn't *Just* For show. No, he had questions that needed to be answered. A darkened glaze enveloped the man's eyes as he narrowed down into the sea of dancers below, his jaw tensing at the thought of seeing the princess emerge from the crowd. *Oh how he'd hate to see her undenying beauty.*

Simmering within his own hatred, Corinthian's attention would shift once more at the sight of his Queen wincing. Furrowing his brows together in attentiveness, Corin took a careful step forwards, placing his free hand gently on the middle of Ashira's back for support. As he watched the dark elf fumble with her own thoughts, the sight of her agony pouring outwardly caused a worried look upon the eladrins face. Corinthian casted a look towards Lysanthir in concern the worse it seemed to get- however, before the boys could truly pitch in- Dhakashira was back to her normal self. Applauding the King of Alynthi as if nothing had ever happened. Reluctantly, Corinthian paired to do the same. Clapping in sync with the Queen and others around him all while his eyes were trained on the woman. Hymns were something that Coin himself could not wrap his head around, let alone why his Queen would remain with one latched onto her. Although, it was not the Spy Lord's place to tell her what to do... All he could offer was what little support he had.
_ _
Brenda
The feelings of calm did seem to help Lysanthir a bit, though looking back down at the crowd as King Dilitrios prepared to perform, Lysanthir almost seemed to relieved when the damned songbird had finally removed his hands from Caleesi. A furrowed brow stained his expression, but it quickly faded away when the Iron King began his show. Turning his attention to it, Lysanthir admired the way Astalios could bend metal to his will. It was a strange, but unique and frankly beautiful magic that the vampire had never seen in such a way before, prompting an ever so faint look of amusement upon his face. No smile, but his eyes seemed to light up a bit at the sight. The spectacle itself was most definitely one to marvel at, especially for those that had never seen King Dilitrios's magic before, Lysanthir being one such individual.

As Lysanthir seemed to be enjoying the king's performance, a cold chill ran up the vampire's spine as he felt something was off with the woman next to him. Turning his head, the expression on Queen Runacri's face was enough to inform him what was happening, and although there was clear concern in his eyes, the vampire chose to simply watch and keep his hands to himself. No reason to make a scene, though if something were to happen he'd very quickly cast a teleportation spell on the three of them, removing them to somewhere quieter. The look on Corinthian's face was one the lord expected, but Lysanthir said nothing. Then, the queen began to clap for the Iron King, and with quick movements Lysanthir soon did the same.

_ _
"I do believe that is my cue to leave, your grace." Turning to the queen, Lysanthir bowed his head respectfully, that look of concern ever present in his eyes. Turning to glance at Corinthian, the Law Master's eyes seemed to change and instead fill with a look of seriousness. Soon, the vampire's voice would be heard within the eladrin's, Dhakashira unknowing to anything that would be said. *"Remain at her side until you are sure she can be left to her own devices. Play time can wait, Lord Corinthian."* With one final nod of his head, Lysanthir departed from the pack, and began his descent into the greater part of the ballroom.
Edwin
Ashira's attention shifted to her Master of Laws as he spoke, her applause quieting. She dismissed him silently, chin dipping to match the bow of his head. A final surge of warm magic chased after him as he left. The queen sensed the exchange that occurred between her companions, but did not attempt to intrude upon either's thoughts. Instead she permitted her gaze to fall once again to those below. She held herself with confidence, as though nothing unusual had occurred. A drink appeared in her hand, fingers effortlessly curling around the glass.

"I'm sure you need to be going as well." Ashira spoke to Corinthian, her voice calm, "I'll be fine, what kind of trouble could I possibly get into?" She flashed a smile over her shoulder. They both were deeply aware of the chaos she could cause, but equally knowledgeable of her level of control. Should anything unexpected occur she could simply teleport to a less public space, all would be well. She waved her free hand at him, "Go, we'll find one another later."

The drow sipped her drink, waiting for Lysanthir to begin and considering her own involvement in the festivities. As much as Ashira would've preferred to remain perched safely in the comfort of the balcony, it was time to socialize. Or at least pretend to. Surveying the room with a steady gaze she sought out the least crowded area, allowing her a gradual introduction to the unfamiliar revelry.