Dancing with Fire
Starting Date and Time: Crimsia 54th, 229 DM
Starting Location: The Crystal Ballroom, Pyresia
CS URLs: Drachiathoryx
Note: This is a 'back in time' solo told about Drachiathoryx from the perspective of a NPC. In this I am exploring a time in her life when she was much less confident than she is in current Ebonfort.
Sebastian Gerardi sipped the ceramic mug of hot coffee, sighing at the stale taste of this morning's brew as he leaned against the polished wooden back of a teak chair. The small table in front of him was crowded with the thick record-books belonging to the studio, and as the proprietor his own handwriting had dutifully filled those pages over the last twenty-five years. Now, he dipped a pen into a black inkwell and made a few notes in his appointment book, faithfully keeping track of the progress of the young couple whose lesson had just ended. He could still hear their voices echoing from the lobby beyond the ballroom's huge double-doors as the receptionist showed them out, and in his mind he could still hear the notes of the simple waltz they had been learning to dance to for the last three weeks.
After jotting a few things down, the man let the pen fall to the page when he was done, leaning back in his chair to take the weight from his sore feet. Perhaps it was a mark of just how many years he had been right here, bringing the discipline, joy, and passion of dance to those who wished to learn, that by the end of a long day of lessons his bones were beginning to protest. He was fourty-three now, the years of performing and entertaining long over, and not for the first time he glanced with blue-green eyes up at a huge gilt-framed painting decorating the windowless northern end of the ballroom. It was a masterpiece he had received as a gift, the skilled brushstrokes and infinite pigments of paint reflecting himself as a much younger man with a gorgeous blonde in his arms as they commanded the dance floor at a particularly huge Midsummer's Gala. He hadn't known at the time that his partner and student had been a green dragon in human form, only discovering it afterwards when she had commissioned him the painting in thanks for his instruction.
But while the painting did an excellent job of giving the viewer a taste of the passion and magic of dominating the dance floor with skill and prowess, it no longer filled Sebastian with a sense of pride and accomplishment. Lately it only seemed to remind him that as time marched on, the decision to hang up his soft lambskin dance shoes and retire was creeping near. The dance instructor rubbed his hand over his face and picked up the pen once more, turning the page to continue his notations, and discovered someone else's handwriting at the top of the page in the slot for the next appointment. Frowning, his thin reddish-blonde brows becoming a scowl, he lifted the book.
“19th stretch, novice consultation, female. $”
Sebastian's puzzled expression persisted for more than one reason. He recognized Jeanne's handwriting, though it wasn't unusual for her to add appointments to his book. These days he had come to rely on the slender half-elf to handle more and more of the studio's business, and trusted her to send him clients who needed his expertise but wouldn't try his patience too much. But it was odd that she had scheduled a novice consult so late in the day, and an hour after he normally left the studio for the night, without telling him about it. The money symbol was Jeanne's way to flag a client who had already paid or was probably wealthy, but the fact that Sebastian's partner had written “female” instead of 'woman' was a new one on him.
Standing up, Sebastian rolled his shoulders and sighed, straightening the simple forest green tunic that was belted loosely around his athletic frame at the hips. It had long sleeves but he had rolled them up to his elbows hours ago and would now likely be too wrinkled to look presentable should he roll them down. Below his shirt was a pair of high-waisted straight-legged trousers that fit snug around the midsection but were loose enough in the legs to move comfortably.
Emerging from his small office, Sebastian strode quietly across the empty expanse of the open dance floor, feeling a certain coolness radiate up through the flexible soles of his shoes when he crossed from the polished wooden perimeter to the blue-green crystal tile that gave the Ballroom its name.
“If you could wait a moment, Triz,” his voice echoed slightly, joining the soft clatter of noises of the trio of musicians busily packing up their instruments where they always sat on the raised stage at one end of the room. Like him, Triz was a master of her craft, able to play any instrument she could get her hands on like they were extensions of her own limbs. The nimble-fingered aaenshi peered questioningly at him with her yellow canine eyes but motioned with her pawlike hand to her own two students, who relaxed to murmur amongst themselves. Sebastian felt guilty at making them wait, but they were young and dedicated to honing their skills. There were enough instruments between the three of them to equip an orchestra, and Sebastian was thankful that Triz was willing to bring them here to the studio to practice, which gave Sebastian's students music to move to. “We may have one more tonight.”
Pushing through the double-door's, Sebastian felt the warmth of the summer sun as the sunset streamed through the high windows. The lobby was near the front entrance and the beginning of the long corridor that circled the ballroom, and one could walk all the way around to enjoy a panorama of the tropical city or enter the ballroom by one of four sets of double doors. Usually both Jeanne and Sebastian could hold lessons simultaneously within the ballroom itself, but the corridor was large enough for one of them to entertain a single student while the other taught a larger (and louder) group.
Blinking slightly at the strong light, Sebastian made his way to the sitting area and the silhouette of the figure he saw there. The receptionist had apparently already left for the evening, but not before supplying the prospective student with a cup of wine that steamed hotly.
“....oh.” Sebastian's breath was suddenly stolen from his lungs as he got a better look at the figure waiting in the lobby. She was sitting at one of the intricate scrollwork iron chairs in front of the high window, looking out through the glass at the harbour and the dark silhouettes of ships gliding silently in and out of the bay. The sun was setting, as orange and hot as a freshly minted copper as it filled the room with a stifling warmth. It spilled over the woman, making her red-scaled skin glimmer like a million tiny rubies stitched to a tapestry with golden thread.
Sebastian had seen dragonkin before, but never up close, and the last place he expected to find one was in his studio. She didn't notice him right away, and in his surprise he enjoyed a few spare moments to look. A luxurious mane of black hair tumbled down her bare back to a spot just between where her wings emerged, and that pair of folded limbs seemed to hover at rest behind her, tucked loosely in on themselves like painted fans. Hanging out the back of her chair was a long red tail, the tip of which was twisting sinuously back and forth. She was wearing a loose black dress with long sleeves to her wrists and a hem that went all the way to her ankles. It seemed overly large, as though she were making an attempt to conceal her figure. Her feet seemed to be bare, however, heelless with dark claws that matched those on the end of fingers she had curled loosely around a cup of wine.
The instructor was well aware of the rumours surrounding dragonkin. They were known to be loners, to be dangerous, lacking in traits such as loyalty, trustworthiness, and class. Sebastian found it difficult to believe that such a creature would be here to simply learn how to dance (the very idea of a dancing half-dragon sounded like an unfinished joke), but as Sebastian watched the woman shift in her seat, his eyes following the graceful, tantalizing lines of her figure, a simple but powerful thought slipped into his mind.
Why not?
As soon as he thought it, Sebastian felt a little thrill of excitement. Of discovering something new. It was a feeling he hadn't had in a long time, and he couldn't help but feel refreshed by it. He lifted a closed fist to his mouth and cleared his throat politely, striding forward as though he had just entered the room.
“Ahem. Welcome to the Crystal Ballroom, madame. I'm Sebastian Girardi, the proprietor and Master Instructor.” Priding himself on his good manners, Sebastian held out his palm, offering to help her from her chair.
He stopped when she turned to face him, and it was fortunate that he had already approached to a conversational distance because if not, he may well have been transfixed mid-stride by her eyes. Looking down into the scaled woman's reptilian face, her eyes put him in mind of the channels of molten rock craftily diverted safely through the city down to the bay by the workings of dwarves. It was easy for Sebastian to see why these half-breeds were feared and mistrusted, and even then his heart missed a beat or two. But her eyes looked him over with a sort of careful cunning that only barely failed to hide a flicker of uncertainty, and it was then that he knew her interest in pursuing whatever she had come here for was genuine, if hindered by doubt. She took his hand and Sebastian felt the pebbly but smooth texture of her skin against his, as well as a tremendous warmth. She hardly needed his assistance as she rose smoothly, and gracefully he couldn't help but notice, though she seemed pleased by the gesture.
She was tall for a woman, and with the graceful but stout spiral horns jutting out from the back of her head Sebastian was certain she was taller even than him. He couldn't help let his eyes wander, though he chastised himself for being rude as he let his gaze linger on the way her wing-joints seemed to hover just above her shoulders, and her nostrils flared just a little every time she breathed. First impressions being what they were, Sebastian found himself very impressed indeed, feeling something crackling between them before she'd even said a word. Or was that just because she was half-dragon?
“Good afternoon, Master Girardi. My name is Drachiathoryx. Thank you for agreeing to see me today. I do hope you will forgive me for insisting on a consult at a later...less busy time.” She withdrew her and, crossing both arms under her bust, which seemed generous under the obscuring dress, and Sebastian detected a note of something more than just polite gratitude in her low but unmistakably feminine voice. It seemed that she had been truly unsure that her learning would be accepted. He realized that she had opted to schedule a late lesson to avoid being seen. What must life be like for someone who felt the need to hide herself from a crowded art district and inside such an unflattering gown?
“There's nothing to forgive, madame. And please, call me Sebastian. My doors are always open to someone who wants to learn what I can teach. Will you walk with me?” He bowed slightly and gestured her towards the ballroom, falling in step beside her as she led her into the huge room. Her eyes widened and Sebastian was treated to the curious sight of her pupils widening and narrowing quickly as she looked around. The soft frills on the sides of her face flattened against her head, which reminded Sebastian of the way of a housecat.
“Have you had any experience with ballroom dancing, madame?” He asked, getting right to the heart of the consult, sensing somehow that this creature wouldn't be one for smalltalk, at least not yet. Sebastian walked with her to one of the mirrored walls, watching her as she watched herself with a small frown.
“Call me Drrrakah,” she replied, turning from the mirror after apparently not finding anything worth looking at there, and added, “And no, nothing of note, I'm afraid. I don't know much about dancing at all, Sebastian, but I recently found myself...inspired.”
The instructor was thankful that she gave him a shortened version of her name to work with. It was clearly Draconic, and she had a noticeable accent to her Common, but Sebastian had live in Pyresia his entire life and knew enough Draconic to get by.
“That's no matter,” he assured her. “But I hope you will allow me to ask you a few questions about yourself,” her wings twitched stiffly at this, which made him smile, “so we can tailor lessons around what you would like to learn. We probably won't do much dancing tonight, and of course if you aren't interested in moving forward there is no charge for the consult.”
At first Sebastian wasn't sure she was listening because her amber-coloured eyes were tracing down his neck and then flitting across the room where she had just noticed the musicians, who were being told off by Triz for staring openly. Drache's tail gave a nervous twitch and Sebastian moved smoothly to put himself between her and them.
“Are you going to be bringing a partner to dance with?” Sebastian met her hard stare, and she looked away first.
“No, I didn't realize that would be necessary.”
“Oh, it isn't. It's just important for me to know if I need to plan to teach a couple or an individual. I'll be happy to dance with you myself, or pair you with one of my younger instructors if you find that more acceptable.” He gave her a moment to say so, but she had no objections, for which Sebastian was glad. “Do you happen to know what style of dance you would like to pursue, or are you looking for a variety...?”
The dragoness frowned a little and fidgeted hesitantly, “I...I am not sure what any of them are called. I would be grateful for your recommendation. I do attend the Midsummer Gala nearly every year, and I have seem several performances in the Art District...”
Sensing that she simply needed a few moments to organize her thoughts, Sebastian remained quiet, watching her thoughtfully and trying to match her uniqueness to one particular style of dance or another. It wasn't easy.
“I'm sure I don't need to tell you that it's fairly usual for someone like me to avoid the social life, but I think it's about time I changed that for myself.”
Sebastian lifted a reddish eyebrow. “So you'd like to learn to dance to boost your confidence, then.” Apparently she didn't like how it sounded out loud because she scowled at him, but he just grinned, “There is nothing wrong with that! There are as many reasons to dance as there are those who do it, and there is nothing ignoble about dancing because it makes us feel good about ourselves.” He watched her relax somewhat and understood then that earning her trust was going to take a long time. The challenge seemed worth it.
“But there are many styles of dance, so now that we know why you wish to learn, we have a way to look back periodically and judge our progress to make sure you are happy, and our next step is to discover which styles resonate with you most. If you are looking to dance socially, perhaps we should start with a rumba.”
Sebastian dismissed some of the more peppy dances for Drache right away, such as swing and cha-cha. They just didn't seem to fit her. He also forgot about waltz, which was the opposite of those bouncy coastal steps, but he just couldn't see the dragonkin in a huge floaty dress gliding around on the dance floor like a flower. She was too sleek for that, and if his judgement about her character was on point, he was willing to bet that there was a lot of sensuality under that layer of uncertainty. She gave him a nod of her smooth snout and stood in the middle of the crystal dance floor as Sebastian signaled Triz and her students. They picked up a violin and a guitar and began to play a smooth melody and distinct 4/4 pattern.
Moving to stand beside his new student, Sebastian faced the mirror next to her. “The rumba is danced in a fairly simple box pattern that just rotates slowly. With all the dances I teach you, the woman will step back always with the right foot first, so that's easy to remember. Even if you change directions, you will always be on your right foot first.” He began to dance, starting the three step pattern of the rumba, lifting his arms up as though he had an invisible partner in front of him. “The rumba is considered a romantic dance, but I think it will be an easy place to start for us today. Now follow me...”
Sebastian settled into a familiar teaching routine for counting out the beats for her, watching her clawed feet shuffle awkwardly at first but settle into the rhythm. She was very agile and within the first dozen repetitions he watched her hips start to sway, her long tail only adding to the movements. Yes, if she stuck it out and let him teach her, she could be very good. It was like watching an extremely exotic flower bloom. He had been concerned about her bare feet, but the hard scales allowed her to slide her feet properly instead of sticking to the floor like normal skin would.
“Yes, one-two-threeeee, one-two-threeeee, pause longer on the three....yes. Good. Keep going.” He moved out of place as she continued, though she could still see him in the mirror as he moved behind her and put a palm lightly in the center of her back. “Keep your back straight, you're leaning too far forward....” she tensed under his touch but didn't miss a step and he kept his hand there for a full bar until he was sure she wouldn't slouch again, making the same steps she did.
“Okay, let's stop for a moment,” he said, waving for the musicians, who let their strings fade off.
“Now that you have the steps down, let's see how you do with a partner,” Sebastian grinned, moving in front of the dragoness. They wouldn't need to dance with their bellies pressed together for the rumba, which was part of why Sebastian liked to start with it, especially for flighty beginners. “Your right hand needs to rest in mine right here,” he lifted her arm, which caused her long sleeve to fall back to her elbow. “You don't have to hold very tight, but this contact will help make sure there is still a gap in the middle here. If you let you arm sag like this,” he demonstrated, “we'll be too close.”
“Now your other hand needs to be up here on my shoulder. Press the flat of your hand right here, yes, and your arm rests on top of mine. All of this is important because when you're dancing with a partner he won't be telling you when or where he is going to step, so this touch will be your way of feeling where he is going to go.”
Sebastian tucked his right hand up Drache's back. Normally he rested his palm on the flat shoulder-blade of his partner, but he found that there was a wing-joint and thick muscles in his way, and thus resolved to cup the base of her wing, fighting the urge to follow the limb upwards out of sheer curiosity. She was very warm, the simmering heat radiating through her dress, and he caught a tantalizing whiff of some spiced perfume.
“And what if I don't like where he is going?” She asked, surprising him with a note of pride.
“Ahah, well make no mistake, most people think that it's the man who is in charge of the dance, but in fact it is the woman who chooses whether or not to accept his lead.” She was watching him critically, and Sebastian felt inspired to ask, “Will you let me lead you, my lady?”
A slow smile curled the corners of Drache's lips and she gave a little nod, which Sebastian repeated to the musicians. The music started up again and Sebastian counted out the notes for her for a few bars before taking that first step. It was better than he expected. Of course she was nervous, inexperienced, and who knew what hangups a half-dragon struggled to overcome, but her feet found the rhythm quickly, and after a few glances down between them at their feet when she missed a step (a habit many students took ages to overcome), she focused on his face. It was impossible to not compare her to his previous students. Certainly she was less skilled than many had been, having had no training at all. But she wasn't hopeless either. In spite of hiding herself under a bulky dress, her body seemed athletic and graceful in his arms.
“Take smaller steps,” he advised quietly, beginning to turn their little rumba box, slowly adding infinitesimal complexities to their dance. “Very good. Now relax. You're doing great. Let your hips sway instead of picking your feet up so high.” The dragonkin followed his instructions well, and as they moved slowly across the vast smooth dance floor, the stiff movements grew more fluid and natural.
While they turned, Sebastian used the mirrors to see what she was doing, curious about how her wings and tail would affect the overall appearance of the dance. He wasn't an expert on winged races but it seemed that she was keeping her wings tucked tight to her back, and her tail was down just behind her feet, the end curled back up like a squirrel's. Something to work on later. Glancing up through the ceiling revealed that they had already been at this for a long time, but it hadn't felt like long at all. When was the last time he had danced the night away without even realizing it?
Looking down, he realized that Drache was watching him curiously, and he brought them to a stop, relaxing his grip on her hand and her shoulder. He was reluctant to move away, and noticed that she didn't either.
“You did very well tonight, Drache. I'd be very happy to see you back for regular lessons.” His tone was hopeful, not just because he was glad to have another student who possessed a natural talent for moving her body, but because his curiosity about this mysterious fire-eyed female was nearly insatiable. But he forced himself to remain professional and waited to see what she would say.
“Thank you, Sebastian. It was more than I expected. When can you have me back?”
“Scheduling just depends on how often you would like to come back. I usually recommend at least two hour-long lessons per tenday, but most people can't make it to more than one. Students who want to go on to compete usually come every other day or so, but if you want to dance socially you don't need to commit that much time. If you're coming here at least once a ten-day, your lessons are 5gp per lesson or 8gp for two.”
“Why the smaller cost for more of your time?” she asked, and Sebastian grinned. It was rare that a student appreciated his time enough to ask. His sea-green eyes glittered at her as they walked together towards his office. On the way, he nodded at Triz, and the musicians began packing up for real this time.
“Because those who come at least twice a tenday don't have to relearn so much at every lesson. It actually saves me time in the long run. But don't feel that you have to commit an extreme amount of time to this. You won't be happy if you don't go at your own pace.”
“I have nothing but time,” she replied, and something about the way she said it made Sebastian look up from where he had opened his appointment book. She was leaning against the doorframe, much more confident now than she had been an hour before. For a moment they weren't instructor and student, he was just a man and she was just a dark and alluring woman. Tension almost sizzled in the air between them, but they both looked away at the same time.
“In that case, why don't you come back in two days, same time, and we'll do a lesson every four days from now on? And there is a schedule of group lessons at the front desk. They are free for anyone taking private lessons and I highly recommend you come to one or two.” She looked unconvinced as he began writing her name down in his book for the next month. “I understand your hesitation, but I think you might be surprised at how quickly my other students will get used to you. You're already lighter on your feet than some I have been working with for weeks. And even if you choose not to dance, just watching will help you decide what you want to learn for yourself.”
Drache made a sort of waggling gesture with her wings that Sebastian took to be a sort of wordless concession. Putting his pen down, Sebastian crossed the room and reached for her hand, which she gave up far more readily than she had before.
“Let me show you out,” he offered, escorting her to across the now-empty ballroom and through the lobby in silence. He normally took this time to make polite inqueries about his students' lives, getting to know a little bit more about them with every lesson, but his words stuck in his throat. The Master Dancer couldn't help but feel that any question he might ask would be viewed by Drache as a swordpoint aimed at something vulnerable and parried as such. Not only that, but what could he ask of a dragonkin? Perhaps the mystery was important.
“Thank you,” she murmured softly when they reached the grand entryway, but whatever else she might have said was lost when Sebastian lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles, he eyes widening as they looked at each other, as though no one had ever done that before.
“I'll see you in a few days,” he said, grinning as he let her go. And it was only once her dark figure had disappeared into the shadowy night that he realized probably no one ever had kissed her hand before.
Starting Date and Time: Crimsia 54th, 229 DM
Starting Location: The Crystal Ballroom, Pyresia
CS URLs: Drachiathoryx
Note: This is a 'back in time' solo told about Drachiathoryx from the perspective of a NPC. In this I am exploring a time in her life when she was much less confident than she is in current Ebonfort.
Sebastian Gerardi sipped the ceramic mug of hot coffee, sighing at the stale taste of this morning's brew as he leaned against the polished wooden back of a teak chair. The small table in front of him was crowded with the thick record-books belonging to the studio, and as the proprietor his own handwriting had dutifully filled those pages over the last twenty-five years. Now, he dipped a pen into a black inkwell and made a few notes in his appointment book, faithfully keeping track of the progress of the young couple whose lesson had just ended. He could still hear their voices echoing from the lobby beyond the ballroom's huge double-doors as the receptionist showed them out, and in his mind he could still hear the notes of the simple waltz they had been learning to dance to for the last three weeks.
After jotting a few things down, the man let the pen fall to the page when he was done, leaning back in his chair to take the weight from his sore feet. Perhaps it was a mark of just how many years he had been right here, bringing the discipline, joy, and passion of dance to those who wished to learn, that by the end of a long day of lessons his bones were beginning to protest. He was fourty-three now, the years of performing and entertaining long over, and not for the first time he glanced with blue-green eyes up at a huge gilt-framed painting decorating the windowless northern end of the ballroom. It was a masterpiece he had received as a gift, the skilled brushstrokes and infinite pigments of paint reflecting himself as a much younger man with a gorgeous blonde in his arms as they commanded the dance floor at a particularly huge Midsummer's Gala. He hadn't known at the time that his partner and student had been a green dragon in human form, only discovering it afterwards when she had commissioned him the painting in thanks for his instruction.
But while the painting did an excellent job of giving the viewer a taste of the passion and magic of dominating the dance floor with skill and prowess, it no longer filled Sebastian with a sense of pride and accomplishment. Lately it only seemed to remind him that as time marched on, the decision to hang up his soft lambskin dance shoes and retire was creeping near. The dance instructor rubbed his hand over his face and picked up the pen once more, turning the page to continue his notations, and discovered someone else's handwriting at the top of the page in the slot for the next appointment. Frowning, his thin reddish-blonde brows becoming a scowl, he lifted the book.
“19th stretch, novice consultation, female. $”
Sebastian's puzzled expression persisted for more than one reason. He recognized Jeanne's handwriting, though it wasn't unusual for her to add appointments to his book. These days he had come to rely on the slender half-elf to handle more and more of the studio's business, and trusted her to send him clients who needed his expertise but wouldn't try his patience too much. But it was odd that she had scheduled a novice consult so late in the day, and an hour after he normally left the studio for the night, without telling him about it. The money symbol was Jeanne's way to flag a client who had already paid or was probably wealthy, but the fact that Sebastian's partner had written “female” instead of 'woman' was a new one on him.
Standing up, Sebastian rolled his shoulders and sighed, straightening the simple forest green tunic that was belted loosely around his athletic frame at the hips. It had long sleeves but he had rolled them up to his elbows hours ago and would now likely be too wrinkled to look presentable should he roll them down. Below his shirt was a pair of high-waisted straight-legged trousers that fit snug around the midsection but were loose enough in the legs to move comfortably.
Emerging from his small office, Sebastian strode quietly across the empty expanse of the open dance floor, feeling a certain coolness radiate up through the flexible soles of his shoes when he crossed from the polished wooden perimeter to the blue-green crystal tile that gave the Ballroom its name.
“If you could wait a moment, Triz,” his voice echoed slightly, joining the soft clatter of noises of the trio of musicians busily packing up their instruments where they always sat on the raised stage at one end of the room. Like him, Triz was a master of her craft, able to play any instrument she could get her hands on like they were extensions of her own limbs. The nimble-fingered aaenshi peered questioningly at him with her yellow canine eyes but motioned with her pawlike hand to her own two students, who relaxed to murmur amongst themselves. Sebastian felt guilty at making them wait, but they were young and dedicated to honing their skills. There were enough instruments between the three of them to equip an orchestra, and Sebastian was thankful that Triz was willing to bring them here to the studio to practice, which gave Sebastian's students music to move to. “We may have one more tonight.”
Pushing through the double-door's, Sebastian felt the warmth of the summer sun as the sunset streamed through the high windows. The lobby was near the front entrance and the beginning of the long corridor that circled the ballroom, and one could walk all the way around to enjoy a panorama of the tropical city or enter the ballroom by one of four sets of double doors. Usually both Jeanne and Sebastian could hold lessons simultaneously within the ballroom itself, but the corridor was large enough for one of them to entertain a single student while the other taught a larger (and louder) group.
Blinking slightly at the strong light, Sebastian made his way to the sitting area and the silhouette of the figure he saw there. The receptionist had apparently already left for the evening, but not before supplying the prospective student with a cup of wine that steamed hotly.
“....oh.” Sebastian's breath was suddenly stolen from his lungs as he got a better look at the figure waiting in the lobby. She was sitting at one of the intricate scrollwork iron chairs in front of the high window, looking out through the glass at the harbour and the dark silhouettes of ships gliding silently in and out of the bay. The sun was setting, as orange and hot as a freshly minted copper as it filled the room with a stifling warmth. It spilled over the woman, making her red-scaled skin glimmer like a million tiny rubies stitched to a tapestry with golden thread.
Sebastian had seen dragonkin before, but never up close, and the last place he expected to find one was in his studio. She didn't notice him right away, and in his surprise he enjoyed a few spare moments to look. A luxurious mane of black hair tumbled down her bare back to a spot just between where her wings emerged, and that pair of folded limbs seemed to hover at rest behind her, tucked loosely in on themselves like painted fans. Hanging out the back of her chair was a long red tail, the tip of which was twisting sinuously back and forth. She was wearing a loose black dress with long sleeves to her wrists and a hem that went all the way to her ankles. It seemed overly large, as though she were making an attempt to conceal her figure. Her feet seemed to be bare, however, heelless with dark claws that matched those on the end of fingers she had curled loosely around a cup of wine.
The instructor was well aware of the rumours surrounding dragonkin. They were known to be loners, to be dangerous, lacking in traits such as loyalty, trustworthiness, and class. Sebastian found it difficult to believe that such a creature would be here to simply learn how to dance (the very idea of a dancing half-dragon sounded like an unfinished joke), but as Sebastian watched the woman shift in her seat, his eyes following the graceful, tantalizing lines of her figure, a simple but powerful thought slipped into his mind.
Why not?
As soon as he thought it, Sebastian felt a little thrill of excitement. Of discovering something new. It was a feeling he hadn't had in a long time, and he couldn't help but feel refreshed by it. He lifted a closed fist to his mouth and cleared his throat politely, striding forward as though he had just entered the room.
“Ahem. Welcome to the Crystal Ballroom, madame. I'm Sebastian Girardi, the proprietor and Master Instructor.” Priding himself on his good manners, Sebastian held out his palm, offering to help her from her chair.
He stopped when she turned to face him, and it was fortunate that he had already approached to a conversational distance because if not, he may well have been transfixed mid-stride by her eyes. Looking down into the scaled woman's reptilian face, her eyes put him in mind of the channels of molten rock craftily diverted safely through the city down to the bay by the workings of dwarves. It was easy for Sebastian to see why these half-breeds were feared and mistrusted, and even then his heart missed a beat or two. But her eyes looked him over with a sort of careful cunning that only barely failed to hide a flicker of uncertainty, and it was then that he knew her interest in pursuing whatever she had come here for was genuine, if hindered by doubt. She took his hand and Sebastian felt the pebbly but smooth texture of her skin against his, as well as a tremendous warmth. She hardly needed his assistance as she rose smoothly, and gracefully he couldn't help but notice, though she seemed pleased by the gesture.
She was tall for a woman, and with the graceful but stout spiral horns jutting out from the back of her head Sebastian was certain she was taller even than him. He couldn't help let his eyes wander, though he chastised himself for being rude as he let his gaze linger on the way her wing-joints seemed to hover just above her shoulders, and her nostrils flared just a little every time she breathed. First impressions being what they were, Sebastian found himself very impressed indeed, feeling something crackling between them before she'd even said a word. Or was that just because she was half-dragon?
“Good afternoon, Master Girardi. My name is Drachiathoryx. Thank you for agreeing to see me today. I do hope you will forgive me for insisting on a consult at a later...less busy time.” She withdrew her and, crossing both arms under her bust, which seemed generous under the obscuring dress, and Sebastian detected a note of something more than just polite gratitude in her low but unmistakably feminine voice. It seemed that she had been truly unsure that her learning would be accepted. He realized that she had opted to schedule a late lesson to avoid being seen. What must life be like for someone who felt the need to hide herself from a crowded art district and inside such an unflattering gown?
“There's nothing to forgive, madame. And please, call me Sebastian. My doors are always open to someone who wants to learn what I can teach. Will you walk with me?” He bowed slightly and gestured her towards the ballroom, falling in step beside her as she led her into the huge room. Her eyes widened and Sebastian was treated to the curious sight of her pupils widening and narrowing quickly as she looked around. The soft frills on the sides of her face flattened against her head, which reminded Sebastian of the way of a housecat.
“Have you had any experience with ballroom dancing, madame?” He asked, getting right to the heart of the consult, sensing somehow that this creature wouldn't be one for smalltalk, at least not yet. Sebastian walked with her to one of the mirrored walls, watching her as she watched herself with a small frown.
“Call me Drrrakah,” she replied, turning from the mirror after apparently not finding anything worth looking at there, and added, “And no, nothing of note, I'm afraid. I don't know much about dancing at all, Sebastian, but I recently found myself...inspired.”
The instructor was thankful that she gave him a shortened version of her name to work with. It was clearly Draconic, and she had a noticeable accent to her Common, but Sebastian had live in Pyresia his entire life and knew enough Draconic to get by.
“That's no matter,” he assured her. “But I hope you will allow me to ask you a few questions about yourself,” her wings twitched stiffly at this, which made him smile, “so we can tailor lessons around what you would like to learn. We probably won't do much dancing tonight, and of course if you aren't interested in moving forward there is no charge for the consult.”
At first Sebastian wasn't sure she was listening because her amber-coloured eyes were tracing down his neck and then flitting across the room where she had just noticed the musicians, who were being told off by Triz for staring openly. Drache's tail gave a nervous twitch and Sebastian moved smoothly to put himself between her and them.
“Are you going to be bringing a partner to dance with?” Sebastian met her hard stare, and she looked away first.
“No, I didn't realize that would be necessary.”
“Oh, it isn't. It's just important for me to know if I need to plan to teach a couple or an individual. I'll be happy to dance with you myself, or pair you with one of my younger instructors if you find that more acceptable.” He gave her a moment to say so, but she had no objections, for which Sebastian was glad. “Do you happen to know what style of dance you would like to pursue, or are you looking for a variety...?”
The dragoness frowned a little and fidgeted hesitantly, “I...I am not sure what any of them are called. I would be grateful for your recommendation. I do attend the Midsummer Gala nearly every year, and I have seem several performances in the Art District...”
Sensing that she simply needed a few moments to organize her thoughts, Sebastian remained quiet, watching her thoughtfully and trying to match her uniqueness to one particular style of dance or another. It wasn't easy.
“I'm sure I don't need to tell you that it's fairly usual for someone like me to avoid the social life, but I think it's about time I changed that for myself.”
Sebastian lifted a reddish eyebrow. “So you'd like to learn to dance to boost your confidence, then.” Apparently she didn't like how it sounded out loud because she scowled at him, but he just grinned, “There is nothing wrong with that! There are as many reasons to dance as there are those who do it, and there is nothing ignoble about dancing because it makes us feel good about ourselves.” He watched her relax somewhat and understood then that earning her trust was going to take a long time. The challenge seemed worth it.
“But there are many styles of dance, so now that we know why you wish to learn, we have a way to look back periodically and judge our progress to make sure you are happy, and our next step is to discover which styles resonate with you most. If you are looking to dance socially, perhaps we should start with a rumba.”
Sebastian dismissed some of the more peppy dances for Drache right away, such as swing and cha-cha. They just didn't seem to fit her. He also forgot about waltz, which was the opposite of those bouncy coastal steps, but he just couldn't see the dragonkin in a huge floaty dress gliding around on the dance floor like a flower. She was too sleek for that, and if his judgement about her character was on point, he was willing to bet that there was a lot of sensuality under that layer of uncertainty. She gave him a nod of her smooth snout and stood in the middle of the crystal dance floor as Sebastian signaled Triz and her students. They picked up a violin and a guitar and began to play a smooth melody and distinct 4/4 pattern.
Moving to stand beside his new student, Sebastian faced the mirror next to her. “The rumba is danced in a fairly simple box pattern that just rotates slowly. With all the dances I teach you, the woman will step back always with the right foot first, so that's easy to remember. Even if you change directions, you will always be on your right foot first.” He began to dance, starting the three step pattern of the rumba, lifting his arms up as though he had an invisible partner in front of him. “The rumba is considered a romantic dance, but I think it will be an easy place to start for us today. Now follow me...”
Sebastian settled into a familiar teaching routine for counting out the beats for her, watching her clawed feet shuffle awkwardly at first but settle into the rhythm. She was very agile and within the first dozen repetitions he watched her hips start to sway, her long tail only adding to the movements. Yes, if she stuck it out and let him teach her, she could be very good. It was like watching an extremely exotic flower bloom. He had been concerned about her bare feet, but the hard scales allowed her to slide her feet properly instead of sticking to the floor like normal skin would.
“Yes, one-two-threeeee, one-two-threeeee, pause longer on the three....yes. Good. Keep going.” He moved out of place as she continued, though she could still see him in the mirror as he moved behind her and put a palm lightly in the center of her back. “Keep your back straight, you're leaning too far forward....” she tensed under his touch but didn't miss a step and he kept his hand there for a full bar until he was sure she wouldn't slouch again, making the same steps she did.
“Okay, let's stop for a moment,” he said, waving for the musicians, who let their strings fade off.
“Now that you have the steps down, let's see how you do with a partner,” Sebastian grinned, moving in front of the dragoness. They wouldn't need to dance with their bellies pressed together for the rumba, which was part of why Sebastian liked to start with it, especially for flighty beginners. “Your right hand needs to rest in mine right here,” he lifted her arm, which caused her long sleeve to fall back to her elbow. “You don't have to hold very tight, but this contact will help make sure there is still a gap in the middle here. If you let you arm sag like this,” he demonstrated, “we'll be too close.”
“Now your other hand needs to be up here on my shoulder. Press the flat of your hand right here, yes, and your arm rests on top of mine. All of this is important because when you're dancing with a partner he won't be telling you when or where he is going to step, so this touch will be your way of feeling where he is going to go.”
Sebastian tucked his right hand up Drache's back. Normally he rested his palm on the flat shoulder-blade of his partner, but he found that there was a wing-joint and thick muscles in his way, and thus resolved to cup the base of her wing, fighting the urge to follow the limb upwards out of sheer curiosity. She was very warm, the simmering heat radiating through her dress, and he caught a tantalizing whiff of some spiced perfume.
“And what if I don't like where he is going?” She asked, surprising him with a note of pride.
“Ahah, well make no mistake, most people think that it's the man who is in charge of the dance, but in fact it is the woman who chooses whether or not to accept his lead.” She was watching him critically, and Sebastian felt inspired to ask, “Will you let me lead you, my lady?”
A slow smile curled the corners of Drache's lips and she gave a little nod, which Sebastian repeated to the musicians. The music started up again and Sebastian counted out the notes for her for a few bars before taking that first step. It was better than he expected. Of course she was nervous, inexperienced, and who knew what hangups a half-dragon struggled to overcome, but her feet found the rhythm quickly, and after a few glances down between them at their feet when she missed a step (a habit many students took ages to overcome), she focused on his face. It was impossible to not compare her to his previous students. Certainly she was less skilled than many had been, having had no training at all. But she wasn't hopeless either. In spite of hiding herself under a bulky dress, her body seemed athletic and graceful in his arms.
“Take smaller steps,” he advised quietly, beginning to turn their little rumba box, slowly adding infinitesimal complexities to their dance. “Very good. Now relax. You're doing great. Let your hips sway instead of picking your feet up so high.” The dragonkin followed his instructions well, and as they moved slowly across the vast smooth dance floor, the stiff movements grew more fluid and natural.
While they turned, Sebastian used the mirrors to see what she was doing, curious about how her wings and tail would affect the overall appearance of the dance. He wasn't an expert on winged races but it seemed that she was keeping her wings tucked tight to her back, and her tail was down just behind her feet, the end curled back up like a squirrel's. Something to work on later. Glancing up through the ceiling revealed that they had already been at this for a long time, but it hadn't felt like long at all. When was the last time he had danced the night away without even realizing it?
Looking down, he realized that Drache was watching him curiously, and he brought them to a stop, relaxing his grip on her hand and her shoulder. He was reluctant to move away, and noticed that she didn't either.
“You did very well tonight, Drache. I'd be very happy to see you back for regular lessons.” His tone was hopeful, not just because he was glad to have another student who possessed a natural talent for moving her body, but because his curiosity about this mysterious fire-eyed female was nearly insatiable. But he forced himself to remain professional and waited to see what she would say.
“Thank you, Sebastian. It was more than I expected. When can you have me back?”
“Scheduling just depends on how often you would like to come back. I usually recommend at least two hour-long lessons per tenday, but most people can't make it to more than one. Students who want to go on to compete usually come every other day or so, but if you want to dance socially you don't need to commit that much time. If you're coming here at least once a ten-day, your lessons are 5gp per lesson or 8gp for two.”
“Why the smaller cost for more of your time?” she asked, and Sebastian grinned. It was rare that a student appreciated his time enough to ask. His sea-green eyes glittered at her as they walked together towards his office. On the way, he nodded at Triz, and the musicians began packing up for real this time.
“Because those who come at least twice a tenday don't have to relearn so much at every lesson. It actually saves me time in the long run. But don't feel that you have to commit an extreme amount of time to this. You won't be happy if you don't go at your own pace.”
“I have nothing but time,” she replied, and something about the way she said it made Sebastian look up from where he had opened his appointment book. She was leaning against the doorframe, much more confident now than she had been an hour before. For a moment they weren't instructor and student, he was just a man and she was just a dark and alluring woman. Tension almost sizzled in the air between them, but they both looked away at the same time.
“In that case, why don't you come back in two days, same time, and we'll do a lesson every four days from now on? And there is a schedule of group lessons at the front desk. They are free for anyone taking private lessons and I highly recommend you come to one or two.” She looked unconvinced as he began writing her name down in his book for the next month. “I understand your hesitation, but I think you might be surprised at how quickly my other students will get used to you. You're already lighter on your feet than some I have been working with for weeks. And even if you choose not to dance, just watching will help you decide what you want to learn for yourself.”
Drache made a sort of waggling gesture with her wings that Sebastian took to be a sort of wordless concession. Putting his pen down, Sebastian crossed the room and reached for her hand, which she gave up far more readily than she had before.
“Let me show you out,” he offered, escorting her to across the now-empty ballroom and through the lobby in silence. He normally took this time to make polite inqueries about his students' lives, getting to know a little bit more about them with every lesson, but his words stuck in his throat. The Master Dancer couldn't help but feel that any question he might ask would be viewed by Drache as a swordpoint aimed at something vulnerable and parried as such. Not only that, but what could he ask of a dragonkin? Perhaps the mystery was important.
“Thank you,” she murmured softly when they reached the grand entryway, but whatever else she might have said was lost when Sebastian lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles, he eyes widening as they looked at each other, as though no one had ever done that before.
“I'll see you in a few days,” he said, grinning as he let her go. And it was only once her dark figure had disappeared into the shadowy night that he realized probably no one ever had kissed her hand before.