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[fieldbox=The Change, #ff99cc]
The camp was set within a hour. The entourage existed out of a few women who served Zahara as handmaidens and then there was a group of household guards. A few who Jorvan had trained with and he was well aware that they were vigilant and capable fighters. After the watches had been set and dinner, which had been a simple soup, had been prepared Jorvan had fallen back to the front of his tent. Sharpening his battle-axe, he wondered briefly how Arthur was doing. Jorvan didn't consider that Arthur would fall in battle. They had experienced too much to just perish.
Deciding to push the thoughts of his sibling away, Jorvan would continue to sharpen the edge of the axe with the whetstone. In a slow and controlled pace, he made certain to not make any mistakes. After a few strokes he would oil the steel before deciding that he should take it easy. With the presence of the household guards, there wasn't any need for him to be vigilant or to be on watch. Which was actually a relief. A quick look towards the sky made it clear that the chances were big that it would remain dry. The absence of any clouds made Jorvan wager that they wouldn't need to fear any bad weather this night.
A nice, cool breeze rustled the red and orange leaves slightly. Zahara pulled her long, dark blue cloak closer to her body and passed the needle again through the embroidery hoop. Three young ladies sat at Zahara's side. Demetria, the youngest, had soft, curly brown hair, and a gift for playing the flute and writing poetry. Katryna, a blonde haired woman, would embroider flowers all day if she could, and Alena, a quiet lady, was as witty as she was wise. The fire crackled and gave off a warming aura, but did not settle the uncertainty in Zahara's heart. Her sister was going out to the battlefield, something she'd never imagine would happen in a long time, or at all. She took a deep breath and sewed another stitch.
"Ow." She pulled her hand back. "You've pricked yourself, m'lady," Katryna spoke and touched Zahara's hand to further examine the source of bleeding. Zahara shook her head and ran her thumb over the small point of blood near the end of her pointer finger. "It's just a prick. Nothing to worry about," she sighed as Demetria went over to a bag and grabbed a small bottle of ointment and dressing. Zahara held her tongue as Demetria took care of the small nick. "I don't need any dressings. Thank you," she spoke hurriedly, though politely. "Play me some music. Please." The young lady took out a simple wooden flute from her bag and began to play a gentle tune. Zahara took another deep breath and began to embroider again.
The picture that she'd intended to form inside the hoop was not what she saw. She pursed her lips in frustration and handed her embroidery to Alena. "Fix it," she mumbled, and stood up. "I'm going for a walk," she announced and began to walk away from the center fire. One of the guards caught up to her and spoke in a brisk tone, so as to not keep her waiting, "Please don't stray too far from the camp, m'lady. I'll accompany you for your safety."
"You won't accompany me at all. If anyone's accompanying me, it's the man that Lady Trevelyan sent to protect me. Not you."
She turned on her heel and walked off, alongside the creek that flowed silently upstream. The guard went back to camp and stood firm.
"Ser Jorick, Lady Zahara requests your presence."
Jorvan looked up to the guard that stated that 'Lady Zahara' requested his presence. A soft sighed escaped Jorvan as he would rise up and nodded to the guard. He wasn't entirely certain what to expect as he couldn't really consider the exchanges between him and Zahara to be of the most friendly nature. Just leaving his battle axe behind at his tent and other possessions, his left hand rested on the pommel of his sheathed blade as he walked towards Zahara's position. He noticed that she was walking away from the center fire, which made Jorvan anything but feel comfortable. Slightly picking up the pace, he managed to caught up to her. "You requested my presence?" Jorvan asked, his eyebrows slightly perking up but his tone holding no sarcasm.
"No, I didn't. He only came to you and told you a lie out of obligation to my sister. My sister wants you to protect me which means that I also have to abide by her guidelines and allow myself to be protected by a man. I don't expect anything from you."
A soft snort followed from Jorvan after Zahara's answer. "You sure know how to bring the situation to a charming description." He mumbled in return. "Though you must agree it is curious why you allow me to guard you and not one of those men, sworn to your house instead of a bloody sellsword. Or," Jorvan's eyebrows slightly perked up as he seemed to hold back a laugh, eyeing Zahara quickly, "You have grown to my company? Which is completely fine. I have a certain attraction that some can't get enough from." Jorvan hooked his thumbs behind his belt, snickering about his own 'statement'.
"What?" Zahara stopped and faced Ser Jorick, baffled by his statement. "You think I like it when you parade around me and claim that you're only protecting me? I would've been just fine on my own had the other guard not told you I wanted you to walk with me. Everyone knows I dislike being escorted around like some child. You're just doing your job, unless you truly want to return to camp and slack off, then by all means, please leave. I wouldn't mind my sister cutting down on your pay." Zahara's hands curled into her skirts as she walked on and pulled a loose strand of long hair back. "She could use those dragons to fund the war she's planning to start with the Blood Brothers, can't she?"
"Well, not if you are putting it like that." Jorvan mumbled, on her 'question' if she liked to be escorted and guarded. "And wait, are you blackmailing me right now? Oh, that is just low, m'lady." Jorvan gained a wry smile as his head slightly tilted to the left as he pondered about something. "Technically, I doubt it will be a war with the Blood Brothers. If anything, I doubt it will come to a large battle if your sister plays her cards well. She outnumbers the Blood Brothers. Just doesn't have the exact same quality with her levies but that is military talk. I doubt you have any interest in talking about bloodshed. Or in anything at all." The last sentence was more of a muttering underneath his breath as he kept following her, a step between them as he didn't want to rile her more than she seemed to be. "Perhaps getting some nightrest would be beneficial, m'lady?"
Zahara continued to trek, her mind whirling with the complexity of her own thoughts and feelings. Amber had never done something like this before. She wasn't experienced in being a leader. Zahara felt another twinge of annoyance rush through but she took a deep, staggering breath, as if she was trying not to let her emotions get the best of her. She blinked her eyes free of tears and turned so suddenly on the man. "How are you sure it won't come to a large battle? How? What makes you so sure that it will be nothing more than just some bloodshed? What proof do you have that makes everything seem alright in your book? Tell me," she demanded, chest heaving quickly. She felt desperate to know. Why was it such a casual topic of conversation for him? Didn't he know that her sister, his leader, was about to go out into some monstrous battle and could very well die? She took another deep breath and tried to calm down. "Just- just tell me."
He would let her make her demands. Remaining calm about the whole topic, he hold back a shrug and the short answer that he was good in guessing these kinds of things. but he doubted that she would take that in a good way. "That is cause I served underneath various people. Some good in making plans and tactics and some who utterly failed at it. Let alone, the fact that I am aware how many of the Blood Brothers are currently employed as how large your house's military is. Your sister has more troops. The problem resides with the fact that the Blood Brothers have more quality equipment and training as experience. The whole reason why your father was keen on using them. But, calm yourself, woman." Jorvan said, his tone and expression still casual.
"If the Blood Brothers are still led by a captain that goes by the name Torrack, he will fall for what your sister has planned. The Blood Brothers will fbe led into a trap and their spread out forces will be taken out with relative ease. So yes, I am quite calm about this as I sincerely doubt your sister would just charge into battle and see lives being lost for some personal glory. I might not know much about matters like dancing but I know how these things work."
"I- I am trying with every fiber of my being to stay calm so you don't get to tell me to stay calm," Zahara stated through gritted teeth. "Are they really that stupid, though? These Blood Brothers? You don't think that they would look inside the crates first and realize it's not actually coin? Or think, what if they opened it when they got home, then came back for revenge? Do you understand that?"
"You are? Gods, I must then teach you how to keep yourself calm, eh?" Jorvan simply jokingly retorted at first, regarding Zahara stating she tried to remain calm. "No. I wouldn't call them stupid but they are eager to get their demanded gold to then proceed to a new contractor. Besides, the moment that they flock to the carts with the crates, I think they will be dead within a few seconds or finding themselves ambushed. So, really, I doubt that the Blood Brothers will remain a problem for long unless they have a new and smarter commander. Then again, it was pretty reckless and stupid for them to split among various villages. If I were in charge of those bastards, I would have kept them all in one village. Easier to consolidate a proper defence and more of a chance to enforce demands."
Pausing for a moment, Jorvan sighed out loud.
"I get that you are worried but how much experience do you have with waging battle or military tactics? If you have none, what is the problem with just trusting on my words?"
Zahara pressed her lips together, well aware of his annoyance and her pushiness. She never made things easier for anyone; Zahara knew that. "You'd think I'm an idiot if I told you why," she responded in a calm manner. "Men who kill are so brave, they don't have time to feel any petty emotions before they slaughter their enemies. You just do it."
"I might think you are an idiot for other reasons but that isn't yet the case, dove," Jorvan said, a wry smile flowed on the man's lips. "And truth be told, the feelings usually surface afterwards. With some, that is. Once you have seen and experienced enough of the nasty ordeal, it becomes less haunting. Still," His voice became a tad colder as the corner of his lips moved a bit down. "No need to say such things. After all, how many men did you kill? Or have you never been in the need to defend yourself or kin from somebody who desired to see their blood flow? I imagine that might change your perspective a bit on killing and fighting."
Dove. Who in the Mother's name does he think he is? Calling me 'Dove'...
"I've never killed a man nor have I ever been in the need to defend myself, at least, from those who wanted to spill my blood. I've never done it because I've never been good at what my sister does. I can't kill, I can't wield a sword, or use a shield. I'm just not good at it and my sister, she's amazing at it but..." Zahara took another deep breath and sighed. "She's new to this, taking charge, and just... just doing it, and I don't know if she's doing alright right now or if she's bleeding to death. She's all I've got and if she ever fell in battle..." Zahara trailed off and felt her eyes become blurry, but she held back once more and stood up straight. "If she ever fell, I don't know what I'd do. I'd feel lost and I... I feel just as lost right now." Zahara could feel her cheeks grow warm in embarrassment as she questioned in a gentler tone, "Is that so terrible?"
"You never killed a man or been in need to defend yourself, yet you talk as if those who do are lesser." Jorvan said in a manner as if he was questioning the mere reasoning of the statement. "Look, I get it that you're distressed and all, but if you are going to just worry and take the worst for granted then it isn't going to be any better. It isn't terrible at all. Just shows that you are worried. But you got other stuff to worry about than just constant fret about your sister. A bit of trust and faith is required, I reckon. So please, take a deep breath and try to calm down before the guards will think that I am trying to do something horrible to you."
"This is the first time after that meeting that I've "fretted" about my sister. Show some sympathy and please, don't worry about what the guards think. I'll make sure they think otherwise," Zahara explained in a droll tone, arms crossed over her chest. She looked at him, dropped her arms, and let one hand rest lightly on his shoulder. "Are you still interested in learning how to dance, Ser Jorick?"
He nodded but felt still wary. If anything he rather avoided to be in a pickle with anybody or have Zahara try to clear the situation up. What was the saying again? Prevention was better than patching or something. When she placed a hand on his shoulder, Jorvan considered the offer once more. "I might be. But only if you feel more at ease. I am no expert on dancing but if you are still fretting a lot, I have to suggest to get some sleep could be better." He replied, leaving the choice up to her.
Zahara felt the corners of her lips raise in amusement and stepped forward, closing the space in between them almost immediately. She placed his right hand below her left shoulder blade and took his other hand into her right hand while her left hand rested on his shoulder. "Who said I was fretting, hm? Stand up straight, Ser. We don't want to look lousy, now do we?"
This was certainly different from how dancing went down in a tavern, was what went through Jorvan's mind. His eyes locked on Zahara's as his eyebrows lightly perked up. "I suppose not. But what now? This doesn't seem like dancing to me." He wondered how they were supposed to move if they were this close together. Briefly Jorvan wondered if this was some kind of joke.
Zahara chuckled briefly, "Now, when I move my right foot back, you move your left foot forward." Jorvan took a step forward just as Zahara stepped back. "Now, follow my feet as I move to the left side. And step back with your right foot." Jorvan followed her instructions with ease. "Now, to the right." They moved to the right. "And back again." Lady Zahara and Ser Jorick continued this monotonous maneuver for a few tries. "As you move forward, then to your right side, back, and to your left side do you feel like you're moving around in a box shape?"
"What is this? This isn't dancing." Jorvan grumbled as he certainly found this kind of dancing foreign to what he was used to.
"You're just not used to the dances that we do. Now, I'm going lean back a little, but don't let go and keep your chin up. We'll execute the same steps in longer strides now." The pair continued a while longer as Zahara gradually introduced Ser Jorick to moving around their alleged "ballroom floor" and allowing her the chance to twirl on her own a few times. "How do you feel right now? Does it still feel like we're not dancing?" Zahara teased as they glided across the field.
Don't let go? Wait, what was she planning? Jorvan did not let go but he didn't feel any more comfortable with it. Though nothing seemed to go wrong the question on how he felt, Jorvan frowned slightly. "I feel out of place, I guess." He muttered as he wondered why nobles found it necessary to have these kind of dances. It seemed to restrictive and rigid compared to how people made merry in taverns and inns. "Seriously, I feel like you are pulling a prank on me."
He felt out of place; perhaps it was best to stop now. "I understand how you feel. We've been dancing for a while now though. Why does it feel like a prank?" She pulled away from him, aware that he was uncomfortable and figured it'd be best to take a more innovative approach. "How do they dance where you're from?"
"Cause dancing shouldn't be that rigid and... feeling odd." Jorvan said, wondering if he was saying anything odd. Rolling with his left shoulder, he wasn't entirely sure how to explain it. She didn't seem as the type that would go to a tavern or really being able to fit in with such 'folk' "Simple, just dance. Just go with your guts, I guess that is one way to explain it. Not something as that you need to learn steps and movements but just enjoy yourself." His frown briefly returned but he considered that he wasn't probably doing a decent job on how to explain it properly. "But thanks for teaching me that. I appreciate it."
"You don't need to thank me. I'm just... doing what I think is best." She pulled her hair behind her ear and glanced at the sky. "We should head back. It's dark now and they're probably wondering where we are."
[/fieldbox]
Zahara & Jorvan
In the Middle of Nowhere
mentions
Amber @Oetje
summary
Jorvan and Zahara are on the way towards Frosthold but hold camp as the sky darkens, with the evening approaching. Once making camp, Zahara and Jorvan engage in some interaction resulting in Jorvan giving his opinion on the situation with the Blood Brothers and Zahara trying to ease the tension between them by teaching Jorvan how to waltz.
collab between @Gerontis and @Kit Kat
In the Middle of Nowhere
mentions
Amber @Oetje
summary
Jorvan and Zahara are on the way towards Frosthold but hold camp as the sky darkens, with the evening approaching. Once making camp, Zahara and Jorvan engage in some interaction resulting in Jorvan giving his opinion on the situation with the Blood Brothers and Zahara trying to ease the tension between them by teaching Jorvan how to waltz.
collab between @Gerontis and @Kit Kat
The camp was set within a hour. The entourage existed out of a few women who served Zahara as handmaidens and then there was a group of household guards. A few who Jorvan had trained with and he was well aware that they were vigilant and capable fighters. After the watches had been set and dinner, which had been a simple soup, had been prepared Jorvan had fallen back to the front of his tent. Sharpening his battle-axe, he wondered briefly how Arthur was doing. Jorvan didn't consider that Arthur would fall in battle. They had experienced too much to just perish.
Deciding to push the thoughts of his sibling away, Jorvan would continue to sharpen the edge of the axe with the whetstone. In a slow and controlled pace, he made certain to not make any mistakes. After a few strokes he would oil the steel before deciding that he should take it easy. With the presence of the household guards, there wasn't any need for him to be vigilant or to be on watch. Which was actually a relief. A quick look towards the sky made it clear that the chances were big that it would remain dry. The absence of any clouds made Jorvan wager that they wouldn't need to fear any bad weather this night.
A nice, cool breeze rustled the red and orange leaves slightly. Zahara pulled her long, dark blue cloak closer to her body and passed the needle again through the embroidery hoop. Three young ladies sat at Zahara's side. Demetria, the youngest, had soft, curly brown hair, and a gift for playing the flute and writing poetry. Katryna, a blonde haired woman, would embroider flowers all day if she could, and Alena, a quiet lady, was as witty as she was wise. The fire crackled and gave off a warming aura, but did not settle the uncertainty in Zahara's heart. Her sister was going out to the battlefield, something she'd never imagine would happen in a long time, or at all. She took a deep breath and sewed another stitch.
"Ow." She pulled her hand back. "You've pricked yourself, m'lady," Katryna spoke and touched Zahara's hand to further examine the source of bleeding. Zahara shook her head and ran her thumb over the small point of blood near the end of her pointer finger. "It's just a prick. Nothing to worry about," she sighed as Demetria went over to a bag and grabbed a small bottle of ointment and dressing. Zahara held her tongue as Demetria took care of the small nick. "I don't need any dressings. Thank you," she spoke hurriedly, though politely. "Play me some music. Please." The young lady took out a simple wooden flute from her bag and began to play a gentle tune. Zahara took another deep breath and began to embroider again.
The picture that she'd intended to form inside the hoop was not what she saw. She pursed her lips in frustration and handed her embroidery to Alena. "Fix it," she mumbled, and stood up. "I'm going for a walk," she announced and began to walk away from the center fire. One of the guards caught up to her and spoke in a brisk tone, so as to not keep her waiting, "Please don't stray too far from the camp, m'lady. I'll accompany you for your safety."
"You won't accompany me at all. If anyone's accompanying me, it's the man that Lady Trevelyan sent to protect me. Not you."
She turned on her heel and walked off, alongside the creek that flowed silently upstream. The guard went back to camp and stood firm.
"Ser Jorick, Lady Zahara requests your presence."
Jorvan looked up to the guard that stated that 'Lady Zahara' requested his presence. A soft sighed escaped Jorvan as he would rise up and nodded to the guard. He wasn't entirely certain what to expect as he couldn't really consider the exchanges between him and Zahara to be of the most friendly nature. Just leaving his battle axe behind at his tent and other possessions, his left hand rested on the pommel of his sheathed blade as he walked towards Zahara's position. He noticed that she was walking away from the center fire, which made Jorvan anything but feel comfortable. Slightly picking up the pace, he managed to caught up to her. "You requested my presence?" Jorvan asked, his eyebrows slightly perking up but his tone holding no sarcasm.
"No, I didn't. He only came to you and told you a lie out of obligation to my sister. My sister wants you to protect me which means that I also have to abide by her guidelines and allow myself to be protected by a man. I don't expect anything from you."
A soft snort followed from Jorvan after Zahara's answer. "You sure know how to bring the situation to a charming description." He mumbled in return. "Though you must agree it is curious why you allow me to guard you and not one of those men, sworn to your house instead of a bloody sellsword. Or," Jorvan's eyebrows slightly perked up as he seemed to hold back a laugh, eyeing Zahara quickly, "You have grown to my company? Which is completely fine. I have a certain attraction that some can't get enough from." Jorvan hooked his thumbs behind his belt, snickering about his own 'statement'.
"What?" Zahara stopped and faced Ser Jorick, baffled by his statement. "You think I like it when you parade around me and claim that you're only protecting me? I would've been just fine on my own had the other guard not told you I wanted you to walk with me. Everyone knows I dislike being escorted around like some child. You're just doing your job, unless you truly want to return to camp and slack off, then by all means, please leave. I wouldn't mind my sister cutting down on your pay." Zahara's hands curled into her skirts as she walked on and pulled a loose strand of long hair back. "She could use those dragons to fund the war she's planning to start with the Blood Brothers, can't she?"
"Well, not if you are putting it like that." Jorvan mumbled, on her 'question' if she liked to be escorted and guarded. "And wait, are you blackmailing me right now? Oh, that is just low, m'lady." Jorvan gained a wry smile as his head slightly tilted to the left as he pondered about something. "Technically, I doubt it will be a war with the Blood Brothers. If anything, I doubt it will come to a large battle if your sister plays her cards well. She outnumbers the Blood Brothers. Just doesn't have the exact same quality with her levies but that is military talk. I doubt you have any interest in talking about bloodshed. Or in anything at all." The last sentence was more of a muttering underneath his breath as he kept following her, a step between them as he didn't want to rile her more than she seemed to be. "Perhaps getting some nightrest would be beneficial, m'lady?"
Zahara continued to trek, her mind whirling with the complexity of her own thoughts and feelings. Amber had never done something like this before. She wasn't experienced in being a leader. Zahara felt another twinge of annoyance rush through but she took a deep, staggering breath, as if she was trying not to let her emotions get the best of her. She blinked her eyes free of tears and turned so suddenly on the man. "How are you sure it won't come to a large battle? How? What makes you so sure that it will be nothing more than just some bloodshed? What proof do you have that makes everything seem alright in your book? Tell me," she demanded, chest heaving quickly. She felt desperate to know. Why was it such a casual topic of conversation for him? Didn't he know that her sister, his leader, was about to go out into some monstrous battle and could very well die? She took another deep breath and tried to calm down. "Just- just tell me."
He would let her make her demands. Remaining calm about the whole topic, he hold back a shrug and the short answer that he was good in guessing these kinds of things. but he doubted that she would take that in a good way. "That is cause I served underneath various people. Some good in making plans and tactics and some who utterly failed at it. Let alone, the fact that I am aware how many of the Blood Brothers are currently employed as how large your house's military is. Your sister has more troops. The problem resides with the fact that the Blood Brothers have more quality equipment and training as experience. The whole reason why your father was keen on using them. But, calm yourself, woman." Jorvan said, his tone and expression still casual.
"If the Blood Brothers are still led by a captain that goes by the name Torrack, he will fall for what your sister has planned. The Blood Brothers will fbe led into a trap and their spread out forces will be taken out with relative ease. So yes, I am quite calm about this as I sincerely doubt your sister would just charge into battle and see lives being lost for some personal glory. I might not know much about matters like dancing but I know how these things work."
"I- I am trying with every fiber of my being to stay calm so you don't get to tell me to stay calm," Zahara stated through gritted teeth. "Are they really that stupid, though? These Blood Brothers? You don't think that they would look inside the crates first and realize it's not actually coin? Or think, what if they opened it when they got home, then came back for revenge? Do you understand that?"
"You are? Gods, I must then teach you how to keep yourself calm, eh?" Jorvan simply jokingly retorted at first, regarding Zahara stating she tried to remain calm. "No. I wouldn't call them stupid but they are eager to get their demanded gold to then proceed to a new contractor. Besides, the moment that they flock to the carts with the crates, I think they will be dead within a few seconds or finding themselves ambushed. So, really, I doubt that the Blood Brothers will remain a problem for long unless they have a new and smarter commander. Then again, it was pretty reckless and stupid for them to split among various villages. If I were in charge of those bastards, I would have kept them all in one village. Easier to consolidate a proper defence and more of a chance to enforce demands."
Pausing for a moment, Jorvan sighed out loud.
"I get that you are worried but how much experience do you have with waging battle or military tactics? If you have none, what is the problem with just trusting on my words?"
Zahara pressed her lips together, well aware of his annoyance and her pushiness. She never made things easier for anyone; Zahara knew that. "You'd think I'm an idiot if I told you why," she responded in a calm manner. "Men who kill are so brave, they don't have time to feel any petty emotions before they slaughter their enemies. You just do it."
"I might think you are an idiot for other reasons but that isn't yet the case, dove," Jorvan said, a wry smile flowed on the man's lips. "And truth be told, the feelings usually surface afterwards. With some, that is. Once you have seen and experienced enough of the nasty ordeal, it becomes less haunting. Still," His voice became a tad colder as the corner of his lips moved a bit down. "No need to say such things. After all, how many men did you kill? Or have you never been in the need to defend yourself or kin from somebody who desired to see their blood flow? I imagine that might change your perspective a bit on killing and fighting."
Dove. Who in the Mother's name does he think he is? Calling me 'Dove'...
"I've never killed a man nor have I ever been in the need to defend myself, at least, from those who wanted to spill my blood. I've never done it because I've never been good at what my sister does. I can't kill, I can't wield a sword, or use a shield. I'm just not good at it and my sister, she's amazing at it but..." Zahara took another deep breath and sighed. "She's new to this, taking charge, and just... just doing it, and I don't know if she's doing alright right now or if she's bleeding to death. She's all I've got and if she ever fell in battle..." Zahara trailed off and felt her eyes become blurry, but she held back once more and stood up straight. "If she ever fell, I don't know what I'd do. I'd feel lost and I... I feel just as lost right now." Zahara could feel her cheeks grow warm in embarrassment as she questioned in a gentler tone, "Is that so terrible?"
"You never killed a man or been in need to defend yourself, yet you talk as if those who do are lesser." Jorvan said in a manner as if he was questioning the mere reasoning of the statement. "Look, I get it that you're distressed and all, but if you are going to just worry and take the worst for granted then it isn't going to be any better. It isn't terrible at all. Just shows that you are worried. But you got other stuff to worry about than just constant fret about your sister. A bit of trust and faith is required, I reckon. So please, take a deep breath and try to calm down before the guards will think that I am trying to do something horrible to you."
"This is the first time after that meeting that I've "fretted" about my sister. Show some sympathy and please, don't worry about what the guards think. I'll make sure they think otherwise," Zahara explained in a droll tone, arms crossed over her chest. She looked at him, dropped her arms, and let one hand rest lightly on his shoulder. "Are you still interested in learning how to dance, Ser Jorick?"
He nodded but felt still wary. If anything he rather avoided to be in a pickle with anybody or have Zahara try to clear the situation up. What was the saying again? Prevention was better than patching or something. When she placed a hand on his shoulder, Jorvan considered the offer once more. "I might be. But only if you feel more at ease. I am no expert on dancing but if you are still fretting a lot, I have to suggest to get some sleep could be better." He replied, leaving the choice up to her.
Zahara felt the corners of her lips raise in amusement and stepped forward, closing the space in between them almost immediately. She placed his right hand below her left shoulder blade and took his other hand into her right hand while her left hand rested on his shoulder. "Who said I was fretting, hm? Stand up straight, Ser. We don't want to look lousy, now do we?"
This was certainly different from how dancing went down in a tavern, was what went through Jorvan's mind. His eyes locked on Zahara's as his eyebrows lightly perked up. "I suppose not. But what now? This doesn't seem like dancing to me." He wondered how they were supposed to move if they were this close together. Briefly Jorvan wondered if this was some kind of joke.
Zahara chuckled briefly, "Now, when I move my right foot back, you move your left foot forward." Jorvan took a step forward just as Zahara stepped back. "Now, follow my feet as I move to the left side. And step back with your right foot." Jorvan followed her instructions with ease. "Now, to the right." They moved to the right. "And back again." Lady Zahara and Ser Jorick continued this monotonous maneuver for a few tries. "As you move forward, then to your right side, back, and to your left side do you feel like you're moving around in a box shape?"
"What is this? This isn't dancing." Jorvan grumbled as he certainly found this kind of dancing foreign to what he was used to.
"You're just not used to the dances that we do. Now, I'm going lean back a little, but don't let go and keep your chin up. We'll execute the same steps in longer strides now." The pair continued a while longer as Zahara gradually introduced Ser Jorick to moving around their alleged "ballroom floor" and allowing her the chance to twirl on her own a few times. "How do you feel right now? Does it still feel like we're not dancing?" Zahara teased as they glided across the field.
Don't let go? Wait, what was she planning? Jorvan did not let go but he didn't feel any more comfortable with it. Though nothing seemed to go wrong the question on how he felt, Jorvan frowned slightly. "I feel out of place, I guess." He muttered as he wondered why nobles found it necessary to have these kind of dances. It seemed to restrictive and rigid compared to how people made merry in taverns and inns. "Seriously, I feel like you are pulling a prank on me."
He felt out of place; perhaps it was best to stop now. "I understand how you feel. We've been dancing for a while now though. Why does it feel like a prank?" She pulled away from him, aware that he was uncomfortable and figured it'd be best to take a more innovative approach. "How do they dance where you're from?"
"Cause dancing shouldn't be that rigid and... feeling odd." Jorvan said, wondering if he was saying anything odd. Rolling with his left shoulder, he wasn't entirely sure how to explain it. She didn't seem as the type that would go to a tavern or really being able to fit in with such 'folk' "Simple, just dance. Just go with your guts, I guess that is one way to explain it. Not something as that you need to learn steps and movements but just enjoy yourself." His frown briefly returned but he considered that he wasn't probably doing a decent job on how to explain it properly. "But thanks for teaching me that. I appreciate it."
"You don't need to thank me. I'm just... doing what I think is best." She pulled her hair behind her ear and glanced at the sky. "We should head back. It's dark now and they're probably wondering where we are."
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