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[preghiereserali]

[There's music playing. On an old-fashioned gramophone too, just to set the mood. In the middle of the room, Armand dances alone, a clean-limbed, red-haired boy of seventeen remembering the steps to a waltz, shoes clicking on a polished wooden floor.]

... This is pointless without a partner. Where have all the dancers gone?

Comments

[asthedrivensnow]

I can waltz.

[preghiereserali]

Can you? [He steps forward, an invitation, and bows low, holding out a hand.] Then may I have this dance?

[asthedrivensnow]

You may. [There's something to be said for proper manners, so she'll just sweep as elegant a curtsey as below-the-knee cashmere will allow, and place her hand in his.

Her ballroom hold is perfect. Obviously. >>]

And with whom am I dancing?

[preghiereserali]

[The curtsey is somewhat unexpected, modern girls don't tend to do that in his experience, and he finds himself smiling]

Armand. And who am I dancing with? [Pay no attention if his skin is colder than usual, and if he moves so elegantly he seems like a statue come to life.]

[asthedrivensnow]

[Modern depends on your definition, and her people are old-fashioned, anyway.]

Narcissa.

[Her smile remains, though the chill of his hand prompts a raised eyebrow.]

You dance beautifully.

[preghiereserali]

I don't know many people called Narcissa. [He begins to lead her around the room, their feet stepping into the geometric shapes of a box waltz.]

As do you. Have you danced for very long?

[asthedrivensnow]

I don't know any other than myself, so you've an advantage of me there - though Armand isn't a name I've heard too often, either.

[She follows his lead with ease.]

Since I was six, or so. Maman had a tutor for my eldest sister, and I refused to leave the lessons.

[preghiereserali]

La Dame aux camélias? No?

[He can't help but laugh a little] I can imagine that, you must have been a sweet little girl.

Where are you from? You say 'maman', but I hear English in your voice.

[asthedrivensnow]

--oh, of course! Though I know the story better as La Traviata, and your name is lost, there.

[A quirk of a smile. Sweet. Yes, that'll do.] I was a complete delight, it's so lovely to have that recognised.

You're observant; I am English - but Maman is from Luxembourg. It colours my speech a little. Your accent is... a little harder to place. [The name is not the nationality, but she can't quite pick the origin.]

[preghiereserali]

Yes, I become Alfredo there. I must say I prefer my own name better.

You're still a visual delight, if nothing else, but I'm sure that's not the extent of your charm. [A small, flirtatious smile.]

I've lived in many places. Do you want to guess where I was born?

[asthedrivensnow]

I'd agree with you, there. Alfredo has other connotations, now, which is unfortunate.

[A delighted smile in response to the compliment; vanity, thy name is Narcissa.] I've all manner of charms at my disposal, though I suspect none are what you'd be expecting.

...mm, I'm terrible at guessing. Let's see... your English is accented with what I think might be one or more of the Eastern European countries, but your red hair cancels a lot of that out. That, and the French name... oh, I don't know. You'll have to tell me.

[preghiereserali]

I'm not a sauce, that's for certain.

[He lifts an eyebrow, unsure what she could possibly mean by that.] I don't doubt the former- you have me curious about the latter. Nothing I expect? Tell me. Then I'll tell you where I'm from.

[asthedrivensnow]

You're certainly significantly cooler to the touch.

[A tilt of her head in response; she's not sure how he'll like her answer. Although, given their location...] Magic. I meant charms in the literal sense.

[preghiereserali]

Indeed? [He doesn't bat an eyelid at the information, his expression only mildly curious, just that little bit sharper.] I've never heard of such a thing, beyond love potions and puffs of smoke. Could you show me?

[asthedrivensnow]

I could. Do you have any wonders you'd like imagined, or shall I just call for light?

[preghiereserali]

Calling light in a lit room doesn't seem quite so fantastic, unless...

[He glances up as they slow to a stop, and the room dims immediately.] Dancing fairy lights, maybe? [But it's just a fancy, he doesn't know what she can do.]

[asthedrivensnow]

Ordinarily that would call for fairies, but... [She steps out of his hold to draw her wand from a clever little pocket in her skirt, and thinks for a moment. Thoughtfulness becomes decisiveness, and with two flicks and a bubbly multis chorum luminaria, hundreds of tiny lights appear above them, mutely glowing yellow as they bob and weave around one another.

Narcissa looks ridiculously pleased with herself. She just made that up.]

[preghiereserali]

[What is that she's holding? A... wand? Armand watches avidly, curiously; he gasps a little at the appearance of the lights, sure that it's not the doing of the room.]

... Lovely. Was that Latin? Is that how you command the charms?

[asthedrivensnow]

It was, and it is, though it's not quite so exact as mere incantations. Magic is a part of me, and the phrasing and wand motion guide it to do what I want.

[preghiereserali]

I've never seen anything like it. It's absolutely remarkable. [He holds a hand out to a light, as if he could touch it]

Is this a common ability, where you're from?

[asthedrivensnow]

Not particularly. It tends to breed true, so those with the ability live separately from those without.

[A dancing mote obligingly bobs down to his hand. He might feel warmth, but it's essentially intangible.]

[blackfellsun]

Well, you're very good!

[preghiereserali]

You flatter me. But it isn't a waltz without a partner.

[blackfellsun]

Oh yes, of course... but it's good practice, at least, isn't it?

[preghiereserali]

I've had too much time for practice. Dance with me?

[blackfellsun]

Oh, my gosh... no, I don't know how to waltz, and I'm not very coordinated, besides. But I'd very much like to watch, if that's all right?

[preghiereserali]

What, you want to watch me prance around the floor all by myself? How boring. Come here, I'll teach you, it's not difficult.

[blackfellsun]

[ His nose wrinkles a bit with uncertainty, but he would like to learn. So. ]

Well, all right -- although, I think I should apologize now, for tripping all over the place. Because I will.

[preghiereserali]

I've met clumsier. I think.

[He reaches out to close a cold, hard hand around his wrist, tugging him forward with ease.]

I'm Armand. What shall I call you?

[blackfellsun]

We'll see!

[ Oh! That's startling. There are plenty of possible reasons for it, of course, but it still gives him a bit of a shock. Nevertheless, he moves easily where he's guided, happy to begin. ]

Pleased to meet you, Armand. My name is Jaime, but some people call me Soleil. I don't mind either way.

[preghiereserali]

Soleil then. It's a pretty name. Unusual.

Would you like to learn to lead or to be led?

[blackfellsun]

[ He smiles, a little. ] It means "sun." In French.

Ah -- how to be led, I think! Is that simpler? I'm not sure I'd do very well at leading.

[preghiereserali]

That I do know. Je parle français- I lived there for a while.

Put your hands on me like this then-- [He demonstrates, pulling Jaime's hands where they should belong.] Now step back, your feet go here...

[ofdrumsthesound]

I'm no great dancer, and this isn't my kind of music, but what the Hell.

[preghiereserali]

Really? What is your kind of music, then? Do tell.

[ofdrumsthesound]

*His response is to grin and turn on the Scissor Sisters.*

[preghiereserali]

[Well that's new for him. Armand might have listened to something like this before, but he's not entirely sure.]

This is what you'd like to dance to?

[ofdrumsthesound]

Yup! *And he'll just start dancing around now, because he is crazy like that.*