January 14th
An elf strolled up to the porch steps, quite alone and without visible weaponry. He was not dressed for work, but neither was his attire truly casual. He looked ready for a night out, at least, free of responsibility for a little while. He took up a casual lean against a bannister, eyes shifting up and down the street rather expectantly. Though his face was calm, the shift of his gaze might have betrayed some nerves.
Must be a night for the elves to come out of the woodwork; the Inn could use more decoration anyway. Decoration, indeed, as that long legged gait brought the Harbringer of Chaos within an elf's sight. She was dressed confidently, heels adding several more inches to her height as usual, to the length of the bronzed legs that peeked out beneath the hem of the knee length dress she wore. She was over an hour later than Shadow had requested that she meet him but there was no hurry to her steps, no urge to rush headlong into whatever awaited her. Though she was generally quite happy to rush right into whatever battle awaited her, this one didn't bring the thrill of danger so much as a feeling of...anxiety? One hand pressed lightly to her abdomen as the distance was closed, as a gesture of nerves, belying that exterior calm that had manifested itself into a somber mask upon her face. Finally she reached the walkway up to the Inn and stopped instead of approaching Shadow further. Clearing her throat lightly, she followed that with a very quietly spoken, "Baron." No pleasantries, not after their last meeting and what had caused the need for this one.
For his part he too was ready for battle, but he had no skills to speak of in this sort of conflict, the conflict between genders. Battle of the sexes? Whatever it was, Shadow had already fired off some seriously poor salvos. When he spotted her - the hour wait had done little to rile his already thin nerves, for what was an hour to an elf? - he straightened up, standing upright in a respectful posture rather than some rakish lounge against the bannister. To some, using his erstwhile 'title' might be considered pleasantry, but in truth it was like a blow to hear her speak so formally. But he could not expect much else. He said nothing at first, his eyes on her as he made his way down the steps separating them. Not too close - he allowed her plenty of space - and he inclined his head. "Lady Rayvinn, I see you received my missive." Where features had from a distance been icy, his eyes perhaps cold, when he neared her, the angles of his face and hard amber pupils of his eyes softened, warmed. But his obvious tension could be felt. "I thought we might share a drink, or some tea, in a place of your choosing." If she was here she'd read that request; he was merely confirming it, here and now.
With his movement, her tension increased and she took a subtle step to the side and around, a graceful arc made to appear that she moved closer to the steps, though made as he descended so that she maintained that space between them. She wasn't physically afraid of him, nor did she fear he would attack her; despite their last meeting, she did feel the elf had more honor than to accost a woman other than verbally, and she didn't presume that he did such a thing on a regular basis. Of course, her feelings were still injured and she was quite offended, but she'd had plenty of time over the past week to ponder that fateful day in the lounge. She'd thought over every meeting she'd ever had with the baron as well as what she'd heard about him from others and his atrocious behavior towards her didn't appear to be common behavior for him. This was the reason she had agreed to meet him. Had he been such a rake commonly, she'd have dismissed him from her mind and gone about her life as she had prior to meeting him. Being as things were, she hadn't entirely dismissed him, however. This meeting would decide the future of any interaction. His features had softened, and this was noticeable to her heightened eyesight, but that did nothing to warm the cool aloofness in her gaze nor her demeanor. "Yes, I received it, Baron. I am not here for drinks, however, but for answers and the apology promised." She'd not ask herself *why* that apology mattered. Had she simply written him off, there would obviously be no desire for the answers or apology.
More than simply 'meetings', they had shared private conversation, and spend a rather wild evening drinking and in each other's company. It was almost as if they'd gone in reverse, back to a place But, what had been done and said, had been done, and said. No longer would the elf seek the past for answers, and he was certainly not going to repeat it. Her cool aloofness was to be expected - truthfully, a blow from her fist or a knife would not really be entirely surprising - but then she hadn't done that when he'd been the 'rake', had she? As cool as she was, her presence here was enough. Her tone was imperious indeed, and though he was able to keep a smile from his face, he was inwardly impressed by her poise. Further confirmation of what he suspected, that she was a true lady, and didn't simply use it as veneer. "Answers I shall give, as I am able. But you are quite right." Steeling himself, for even he had his pride, he knelt on one knee in a very
archaic fashion, as a liegeman might to a queen, and dipped his head. "For not treating you with the respect you deserve, as the lady you are, I humbly apologize, Lady Rayvinn. My honor is yours." He didn't care what passersby or entrants to the Inn might see him kneeling, for at that moment, naught else mattered to him.
He was fortunate indeed that she was on the sane side of crazy tonight and thus far there was no need for violence. A perfectly groomed dark brow arched high as lips, made more for whisperings and secretive smiles, formed into a tight line upon somber features. She studied the elf upon his knee offering his apology and honor for misdeeds and spent several very long moments in contemplation. Finally, she spoke, the chill in her voice warming only by mere degrees, "For not treating me with the respect any woman deserves regardless of her status is what I am certain you meant to say Baron, yes? Any woman, unless she truly is a whore whose time has been purchased, should never be subjected to such dishonorable treatment. However, mistakes in judgement can be made by elves as well as men, and none of us are entirely innocent from such transgressions. Please stand and do not cause a scene, your honor is your own. I would not take it from you." Her gaze remained aloof, for make no mistake that while she was forgiving the transgression, she would not simply forget and act as if he had not injured her pride.
He rose smoothly, one hand brushing street dust from his knee, after she had spoken. And, expressly given him leave to stand. Propriety, but it was clear on his face that he was ashamed. Still, he held his head high. She had not expressly forgiven him anything, but for now, it was enough. "Indeed, none of us are innocent..." he murmured, his eyes clouding for an instant, a private guilt which quickly passed. "As you say, Lady Rayvinn. Perhaps we could retire from the chilly evening and seek out a warmer place in which to converse?" Not that he minded the chill, but it would be good to sit. "If you prefer, I hear there are duels afoot in the Star's End Bar. An interesting place, I've rarely been to. The walk is not far. Granted, the Inn is a bit closer." The first real smile he'd allowed so far, though it barely curved his mouth.
She would be far happier with herself if she could state that she was entirely unaffected by his smiles, even the barely there ones, and not be telling an outrageous lie to herself. As it was, her head barely canted to the side as that familiar appearance occurred and one corner of her own mouth lifted in involuntary response. "Hm, I wouldn't think a ranger such as yourself would be so affected by the chill. Shall I be chivalrous and offer my coat, Baron?" Oh, what was this? Did she just make a joke? She paused for a long moment, contemplating his request, and then offered a half nod. "I suppose I could drink a cup of tea for the sake of not appearing unkind to an elf that would degrade himself in public at my expense. I have no preference for where I obtain this tea."
And that bare smile grew, as she replied. She was free with her jibes, but they had a way of breaking past his usual formality. Whether a true inner thaw was occurring for either of them remained to be seen. But outwardly, he relaxed. Jibes meant progress was being made, in so far as he could tell. "Chivalry is a term that refers to men, horses, and rules of war, in fact. As you are neither man nor horse, I'd say, keep the coat. It suits you far better." He was hoping an act of war had been averted, in any case. "And it is no degradation, to kneel before a lady. Pride is usually a sillier thing, than it is useful." Normally here's where a gent would offer an elbow; instead he merely turned, headed up the porch steps to open the door, and with a half-bow gestured her inside. "Ladies first."
An elf strolled up to the porch steps, quite alone and without visible weaponry. He was not dressed for work, but neither was his attire truly casual. He looked ready for a night out, at least, free of responsibility for a little while. He took up a casual lean against a bannister, eyes shifting up and down the street rather expectantly. Though his face was calm, the shift of his gaze might have betrayed some nerves.
Must be a night for the elves to come out of the woodwork; the Inn could use more decoration anyway. Decoration, indeed, as that long legged gait brought the Harbringer of Chaos within an elf's sight. She was dressed confidently, heels adding several more inches to her height as usual, to the length of the bronzed legs that peeked out beneath the hem of the knee length dress she wore. She was over an hour later than Shadow had requested that she meet him but there was no hurry to her steps, no urge to rush headlong into whatever awaited her. Though she was generally quite happy to rush right into whatever battle awaited her, this one didn't bring the thrill of danger so much as a feeling of...anxiety? One hand pressed lightly to her abdomen as the distance was closed, as a gesture of nerves, belying that exterior calm that had manifested itself into a somber mask upon her face. Finally she reached the walkway up to the Inn and stopped instead of approaching Shadow further. Clearing her throat lightly, she followed that with a very quietly spoken, "Baron." No pleasantries, not after their last meeting and what had caused the need for this one.
For his part he too was ready for battle, but he had no skills to speak of in this sort of conflict, the conflict between genders. Battle of the sexes? Whatever it was, Shadow had already fired off some seriously poor salvos. When he spotted her - the hour wait had done little to rile his already thin nerves, for what was an hour to an elf? - he straightened up, standing upright in a respectful posture rather than some rakish lounge against the bannister. To some, using his erstwhile 'title' might be considered pleasantry, but in truth it was like a blow to hear her speak so formally. But he could not expect much else. He said nothing at first, his eyes on her as he made his way down the steps separating them. Not too close - he allowed her plenty of space - and he inclined his head. "Lady Rayvinn, I see you received my missive." Where features had from a distance been icy, his eyes perhaps cold, when he neared her, the angles of his face and hard amber pupils of his eyes softened, warmed. But his obvious tension could be felt. "I thought we might share a drink, or some tea, in a place of your choosing." If she was here she'd read that request; he was merely confirming it, here and now.
With his movement, her tension increased and she took a subtle step to the side and around, a graceful arc made to appear that she moved closer to the steps, though made as he descended so that she maintained that space between them. She wasn't physically afraid of him, nor did she fear he would attack her; despite their last meeting, she did feel the elf had more honor than to accost a woman other than verbally, and she didn't presume that he did such a thing on a regular basis. Of course, her feelings were still injured and she was quite offended, but she'd had plenty of time over the past week to ponder that fateful day in the lounge. She'd thought over every meeting she'd ever had with the baron as well as what she'd heard about him from others and his atrocious behavior towards her didn't appear to be common behavior for him. This was the reason she had agreed to meet him. Had he been such a rake commonly, she'd have dismissed him from her mind and gone about her life as she had prior to meeting him. Being as things were, she hadn't entirely dismissed him, however. This meeting would decide the future of any interaction. His features had softened, and this was noticeable to her heightened eyesight, but that did nothing to warm the cool aloofness in her gaze nor her demeanor. "Yes, I received it, Baron. I am not here for drinks, however, but for answers and the apology promised." She'd not ask herself *why* that apology mattered. Had she simply written him off, there would obviously be no desire for the answers or apology.
More than simply 'meetings', they had shared private conversation, and spend a rather wild evening drinking and in each other's company. It was almost as if they'd gone in reverse, back to a place But, what had been done and said, had been done, and said. No longer would the elf seek the past for answers, and he was certainly not going to repeat it. Her cool aloofness was to be expected - truthfully, a blow from her fist or a knife would not really be entirely surprising - but then she hadn't done that when he'd been the 'rake', had she? As cool as she was, her presence here was enough. Her tone was imperious indeed, and though he was able to keep a smile from his face, he was inwardly impressed by her poise. Further confirmation of what he suspected, that she was a true lady, and didn't simply use it as veneer. "Answers I shall give, as I am able. But you are quite right." Steeling himself, for even he had his pride, he knelt on one knee in a very
archaic fashion, as a liegeman might to a queen, and dipped his head. "For not treating you with the respect you deserve, as the lady you are, I humbly apologize, Lady Rayvinn. My honor is yours." He didn't care what passersby or entrants to the Inn might see him kneeling, for at that moment, naught else mattered to him.
He was fortunate indeed that she was on the sane side of crazy tonight and thus far there was no need for violence. A perfectly groomed dark brow arched high as lips, made more for whisperings and secretive smiles, formed into a tight line upon somber features. She studied the elf upon his knee offering his apology and honor for misdeeds and spent several very long moments in contemplation. Finally, she spoke, the chill in her voice warming only by mere degrees, "For not treating me with the respect any woman deserves regardless of her status is what I am certain you meant to say Baron, yes? Any woman, unless she truly is a whore whose time has been purchased, should never be subjected to such dishonorable treatment. However, mistakes in judgement can be made by elves as well as men, and none of us are entirely innocent from such transgressions. Please stand and do not cause a scene, your honor is your own. I would not take it from you." Her gaze remained aloof, for make no mistake that while she was forgiving the transgression, she would not simply forget and act as if he had not injured her pride.
He rose smoothly, one hand brushing street dust from his knee, after she had spoken. And, expressly given him leave to stand. Propriety, but it was clear on his face that he was ashamed. Still, he held his head high. She had not expressly forgiven him anything, but for now, it was enough. "Indeed, none of us are innocent..." he murmured, his eyes clouding for an instant, a private guilt which quickly passed. "As you say, Lady Rayvinn. Perhaps we could retire from the chilly evening and seek out a warmer place in which to converse?" Not that he minded the chill, but it would be good to sit. "If you prefer, I hear there are duels afoot in the Star's End Bar. An interesting place, I've rarely been to. The walk is not far. Granted, the Inn is a bit closer." The first real smile he'd allowed so far, though it barely curved his mouth.
She would be far happier with herself if she could state that she was entirely unaffected by his smiles, even the barely there ones, and not be telling an outrageous lie to herself. As it was, her head barely canted to the side as that familiar appearance occurred and one corner of her own mouth lifted in involuntary response. "Hm, I wouldn't think a ranger such as yourself would be so affected by the chill. Shall I be chivalrous and offer my coat, Baron?" Oh, what was this? Did she just make a joke? She paused for a long moment, contemplating his request, and then offered a half nod. "I suppose I could drink a cup of tea for the sake of not appearing unkind to an elf that would degrade himself in public at my expense. I have no preference for where I obtain this tea."
And that bare smile grew, as she replied. She was free with her jibes, but they had a way of breaking past his usual formality. Whether a true inner thaw was occurring for either of them remained to be seen. But outwardly, he relaxed. Jibes meant progress was being made, in so far as he could tell. "Chivalry is a term that refers to men, horses, and rules of war, in fact. As you are neither man nor horse, I'd say, keep the coat. It suits you far better." He was hoping an act of war had been averted, in any case. "And it is no degradation, to kneel before a lady. Pride is usually a sillier thing, than it is useful." Normally here's where a gent would offer an elbow; instead he merely turned, headed up the porch steps to open the door, and with a half-bow gestured her inside. "Ladies first."