The Fae Wolf Festival Celebration

[Raylene Hope]

The wind howled angrily outside the caves as snow swirled around the entrance. Icicles dripped from the entrance and parts of the ceiling. They almost glowed with the light of silver moonlight and golden fire. In fact, magic crackled all around them. The crystals that grew in the caves refracted light , turning the cave into a bright and mystical land. Illusions of another, grander, brighter cave flickered in and out of existence; this cave was the doorway to Faeryland and that elusive sight was actually quite real. Fae flitted between the worlds at whim. The food of Faery was much better than anything else because it was quite literally made from pure magic.

Nothing tantalized the senses quite like parties thrown by the fae. Raylene smiled as she looked around her, silently making sure that everything was going as it should. When the fae was involved, the less planning the better. Their kind were flighty, whimsical creatures. Plans could never be kept. Arguments broke out. People got hurt. It was much better to keep things simple. Meet here, I’ll open the gate to Faeryland, light a fire, and have fun. The only real plan was the Honored Wolf Dance.

That year, Elder Wyn had named an elf called Koen Valiant as the dancer. The odd thing was, nobody seemed to know who this man was! He obviously was not a member of the council. There were many faces floating about that Raylene did not recognize, she could only hope that his would be one of them. The High Elf kept a sharp lookout for anyone dressed in the head to toe wolf skin that would be Koen’s proper attire. Everything was swirls of noise and color, however, and eventually Raylene told herself to relax and enjoy the music. The fae boasted some of the best musicians in the land.

Eventually, the elf made her way to sit near the warmth of the fire. The orange glow danced with the music, causing shadows to flare and recede among her person. Raylene was dressed well for the occasion. Her hair was long and loose, with a thin single braid added just behind in front of her left ear. Her gown was scarlet and embroidered in gold silk. Images of lions, eagles, and griffins danced across the fabric. The dress was, of course, lined with the fur of a gray wolf on the cuffs, the bottom hem, and the hood.

Raylene kept her face natural, as did most fae. Cosmetics were a terribly mortal invention that most refused to wear. Even so, she could see a few people flit by with rouge on their cheeks or berry colored paste on their lips. It looked rather ridiculous. Then again, so did many things in their world. The fae did not have a strict dress code to follow like the mortals did. The result was a stunningly ridiculous blur of fashions and color. Raylene herself did not often wear such elaborate gowns as this one, but it was made for her by a friend.

Her shoes were gold slippers lined with the same fur as her gown. A single earring made of pure gold shimmered above the crescent moon earring she always wore, the one made of wolf bone. Her new earring was shaped like a star. Raylene seemed to glow with the magic of the fire before her. Even her bark brown hair seemed auburn in the light. This was all a bit more bright than what the elf was used to, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. Seeing her people happy warmed her heart.

There, her people had little to worry about. The mortals would be busy with their own celebrations. This holiday was a universal one. All were chilled by the hungry howling of the winter wolves. All would partake in keeping them at bay. At the very least, the Honored Dance was a stunning thing to watch. A figure, silhouetted against the fire, dancing to the heavy beat of drums. It was passion incarnate, breathtakingly beautiful as long as the dancer knew how to dance. This wasn’t normally an issue since the dancer had an entire year to prepare. Occasionally, however, one got a dancer who simply could not do it.

Raylene didn’t mind. The ceremony was a sacred one and was able to maintain its joys and beauty even without a skilled dancer. Her people loved to celebrate. Watching them dance lit a fire inside of her own heart and filled her with longing. Raylene felt alone, sitting there like that. She wanted to dance, too, but felt as though there were some kind of barrier separating her from her people. Hers was a powerful, intimidating presence. In the council, this was a good thing. When it came to making friends and mingling it was a severe disadvantage.

[Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar]

A slender form slipped through the smoke and firelight, shadows playing across his path. The sweet scented smoulder of the coals led his steps in silent passage over crystal ground; easy, feline, graceful. He knew where he was going. He was comfortable here.

It was plain this man didn't belong, not quite, to the twisting throng of light-footed Fae. He wove his way into their presence with the confidence of long association but he stood out from the crowd; not for his ostentatious decoration like the Fairies arching, gilded wings, nor for his cool arrogance like the clever Elves, but rather for his lack thereof. He was not whimsical, not a creature of fairytale and dreams. Rather one of nightmare and legend, pale where they were golden, moody where they were light-hearted, a Daemon among Fae.

Although he could dance, he didn't. Instead his eyes followed the movement of bodies lifting and dipping in joyful abandon, forgetting their cares and worries. They were teal, unnaturally bright, oddly entrancing, but the revellers were too lost in their wildness to notice his spells now. He smiled, revealing delicately pointed fangs, touched by their joy. They deserved it. Life was hard in the forest at the best of times, and the past fifty years had been anything but.

Nonetheless a few curious stares followed his progress into the crystal caves. They knew him well; Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar, leader of chaos, friend of the Fae. But even after two hundred years the Daemon lord was an enigma, a mystery, to most. His skin rendered pale lemon and saffron by the flames, wearing only his customary black cotton pants and exorbitant silver jewellery, he was alluring and beautiful in a feral, demonic way that contrasted the elegant grace of the Fae. He was mesmerising. And frightening. They respected him but they did not understand him. They watched him but they did not ask him to join. Ever an outsider, just as he liked it.

The Daemon spotted Raylene through the seething mass of celebrating forms, almost as much an outsider as he. She, too, was not joining in. She too avoided the dancing. He sat next to her, comfortable in her presence as he was with everyone. Awkward was not a word in the Daemon's social vocabulary and he greeted her with a welcoming smile and dipping of his head, as though he were the host and she the guest. They were used to his indifference to customs, used to his ease among the Fae as though he were one of them when everything else screamed how different he was. He had long since stopped caring about the possibility of offending them, if indeed he ever had.
"Raylene. How are you this evening?" His tone was cheery, his expression friendly. There was something enchanting about the Daemon without his even trying. The advantage of a bardic affinity.

[Raylene Hope]

Noises melded together in one cacophony of pleasure and fun. Screams, laughter, stomping feet, excited moans. It was all around her, confusing her sensitive ears. It felt surreal. Raylene was lost in it. Then a flicker of movement caught her attention. She smiled when she saw Gabriel. How could she not? His presence alone made things feel brighter. He always seemed to stand out in a crowed. So did she, but for other reasons. She had a powerful presence. Gabriel had a breathtaking presence. People were drawn towards him like flies to honey. It was odd to see him without a flock of admirers.

Raylene briefly wondered if he was grateful for this relief. It seemed the revelers were so intent on reveling that they did not have time to follow one single things. Rather, they were everywhere at once. Then there was the two of them, one small picture of stillness is a chaotic room. It felt as though they stopped time. And why not? Fae magic was flooding that caves that night. Anything was possible. She watched him as he approached, the smile plastered to her face. Raylene was glad of his company, glad that someone else was able to share her little pocket of abstract time.

She returned his nod with one of her own. When he spoke, her eyes sparked a little. Raylene liked the sound of his voice. Although her passions were more controlled than most fae, she was still one of her people. At that moment, the elf was drunk on the pleasures of those around her. Gabriel’s presence was pleasing to her senses. “I am doing well, Daemon Lord. It is wonderful to see my people laughing. The weight of years will be lifted tonight.” Of course, it would be waiting for them the next day.

At least they had the night. “And how is the night treating you, Gabriel? I am surprised to see you here. Pleasantly so.” There was something almost coy about her gaze that was not quite flirting. Raylene had no romantic interest in the man. She knew better. The elf was also not the type to idly flirt. With Gabriel she seemed to come dangerously close without actually tipping the scale. Raylene had only ever flirted with one man. He was dead now. The elf would, however, hold hands with those she was fond of. She offered a hand to Gabriel.

[Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar]

Gabriel took the offered hand, smaller though no less elegant than his own, unself-conscious about the gesture. And why shouldn't he be? There were no rules in the forest, no social ettiquettes to be broken, no disapproving elders to ruin the closeness of two people. Their hands too mirrored their similarities and differences - his pale with the elegant fingers of a piano player, long and bony, perhaps too thin. Hers golden like the rest of her skin, graceful and deft and markedly Elvish. Both with long nails (almost absurdly feminine in Gabriel's case), flawless and dexterous. He took a moment to admire this small statement of person, so eloquent in it's portrayal of the people involved, before looking up once more with a quick smile. Maybe he too felt the magic of the cave, of the night. The restlessness that so often characterised his person was gone for the moment and a rare calm was in its place.

Gabriel liked Raylene. Passionate, fiercely loyal, intelligent. Qualities the Daemon admired among the flighty, unpredictable Fae. He was more than pleased to spend time in her company. Though he shared in the unspoken agreement that this was friendship, perhaps a dance of amusement on the side in her slight relaxation of propriety around him, friendship was exactly what he coveted. True relations were hard to form when one's very presence muddled feelings and played havoc with the heart. In Raylene Gabriel found honesty and good conversation and though she was not completely unaffected by his charms she was strong enough to remain true to herself.

"The pleasure is all mine, Lady Elf," he grinned, though his eyes were drawn once more to the dancers. "It is good to see them relax," he added, in agreement with her words. "I'm no Fae, and I cannot appreciate your suffering for I escaped so unscathed in relation, but I see their weight of loss and fear. This is how it should be. Dancing rather than war." The Daemon was not a stranger to expressing his feelings to others but seldom did he speak so seriously, unless to someone that deserved to listen. Raylene was such a listener - had she not lost more than most?

Abruptly he turned back to her, cheerful once more. Eyes the colour of tropical seas, of far distant places not seen in Illinor, appraised her playfully and he good-humouredly returned her banter with a coy glance of his own. Or perhaps brash. So swift it was hard to tell, but mischeviousness was clear.
"The night treats me well, better than any previous. This celebration is one of my favourites." The truth of his words lay in his small concession to the festivities - a necklace, lost among his many others, from which strips of fur and a medley of wolf bones hung.
"As for your surprise, it was always my intention to come here first. Maybe later I will slip away and join the festivities of my own kind but I owe loyalties to the Fae. It brings me joy to see them dancing, they who have suffered most."

[Raylene Hope]

This moment felt infinitely poetic. Raylene felt unbelievably relaxed with the magic of the faerie mound flowing around her and Gabriel’s presence warming her spirit. He took her offered hand and, like most fae, the contact was comforting. She glanced down at his long fingers entwined with hers and marveled at how easily this daemon was able to fit in among her people and still keep everything that made him what he was. He was a daemon among fae and he was one of them but at the same time he was not and never could be. Her people loved him.

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Elf.”

His voice broke the spell, or perhaps it only wove a new one. Raylene followed his gaze to the dancers and her heart fluttered with joy. He spoke the words clinging to her heart. She looked at him with an unreadable expression. Perhaps it was gratitude. Too often it felt like her people were alone in their plight, but to hear Gabriel speak those words was a comfort. Dancing and not war. Those final words pierced her like an arrow. Something black curled up in the pit of her stomach. It was Raylene who most strongly advocated this war.

There was no guilt in that realization. She did what had to be done for the good of her people. It did make her sad. Raylene could not agree with Gabriel more. The fae were meant to dance and frolic, weaving their spells through the forest rather than watching it die. Naturally, Gabriel did not allow her to continue to brood. Instead he looked at her with an expression fused with contagious cheer so that Raylene could not help but smile again. “You are kind.” The gratitude was clear in her voice. Some fae still considered it an insult to come right out and say ‘thank you.’

It was an old custom. Raylene was fond of old customs. She adored ancient history. Sitting there, looking into Gabriel’s eyes, the elf realized that all of her ancient history taught her about fae and shifters. It was only the newer texts that mentioned anything about his kind, and they did not say much. Raylene had learned much about daemons as a species, but next to nothing about their home. Was it like Faerie? It was rare now for Raylene to feel such curiosity. She had the Elfen Library at her fingertips.

Her eyes asked the question before her mouth did. She felt like a child again, asking her father to tell her of some far off place. It was an odd sensation. “Gabriel. Tell me about your realm. Is there peace there? And food made of magic?” Raylene always imagined the land as being wild, far more wild than Illinor. Even in the Tangle. In her mind the land was riddled with dark, untamed beauty. How else could such creatures be born from it? Daemon’s themselves were riddled with dark, untamed beauty. People had a tendency to match their roots.

[Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar]

Kind. Gabriel had been described as many things, along every section of the spectrum of adjectives. Cold, arrogant, powerful, beautiful, delightful, wild, dark, unpredictable, playful, demonic. Kind was rare. It was not something he handed out freely, kindness. But here it was appropriate; he loved the Fae almost as much as he loved the Daemons, and for those he was close to such as Raylene he was a most loyal and giving ally. Perhaps he did not often show it but he was perceptive enough to see Raylene's hurt, how much the mortals were draining her with every felled tree, every dead Fae. She deserved his kindness and he gave it unreservedly.

The magic touched him too. Not in the same way as it touched the Fae; it was probing, curious, but it did not envelop him in fairytale warmth. It touched the fringes of his mind, playful and welcoming and hesitant all at once. He was satisfied with this edge of Faery magic which gave the brief touch of experience to an outsider without overwhelming him. Much like the Fae themselves. Nonetheless, despite his more restrained immersion into the magic of the night, he was likewise intoxicated.

Gabriel allowed himself a few moments of lost enjoyment before opening his eyes again to answer Raylene. It was rare to be asked such a question - though people were fascinated by him, this seldom extended to the rest of his race. He smiled as he spoke, memory deepening his gaze.
"Food made of magic? No, we are not so whimsical and magical as you Fae. But there is peace there. The Daemon's are the only intelligent beings, you see. Aside from minor infighting, who should we have to attack or be attacked by?" This was why, of course, Gabriel had gently advised not to allow the mortals to settle within the forest of Illinor when they first arrived. Yet another intelligent species, and one he could see even then that hungered for power and dominion. And worse, one that bred at unprecedented speed! But the Fae were welcoming, gracious - he could not blame them for that for it defined them and made them the people he had come to appreciate. Kind. That word again. He hoped it didn't correlate with weakness. It would be a sad world if it did.

"It is beautiful, dangerous and wild. Like us. Much like Illinor but harsher because that's what suits the Daemons. Illinor matches the Fae, you know. From an outsiders perspective the forest and the natives have grown as one, in tandem, each reliant on the other."

[Knives]

Rather peeved by all the current events the fae garbed in all wolf fur was sitting on the side watching. After all, he hated crowds. He was covered from head to toe in the gross fur. Yes, he hated this though he would never object to taking this position. The only reason he hated wearing this much fur was that it came from creatures that were killed, and that bothered him. At least no one even noticed him, normally. After all, he kept in hiding since Jin was destroyed.

The festival seemed fun, but Knives had no intentions of joining. He'd just wait until he had to do that dumb dance and then just go sulk again. Sulking was rather fun, to Knives. Well one good part about being on the sides was that nobody would recognize him as the Koen whom destroyed Jin. Well, not that he did.

Knives' eyes flew along the crowd, just about everyone had some amount of wolf fur on their clothing. It really did make him feel nauseous. A cold shiver ran down his back and he looked away from the crowd, better distract himself before that insane part of him took over again. He amused himself by sensing around the crowd for those exerting magic. Quite a few more than he was expecting. A spark of idea rushed into his head. Oh yes, the most intriguing part of his magic was seeing into the future. He closed his eyes and bit his tongue in order to concentrate. A flow of magic flowed from him as he looked over situations that would take place depending of what he did.

Snapping his eyes open Knives looked about. That was odd, he didn't see much that time. It was probably because he couldn't concentrate well enough to see true. Ah well might as well watch the fae dance at this little festival.

[Raylene Hope]

“Yes.” Raylene enjoyed picturing his words. Long had the daemon world been a mystery to her. The entrance only worked one way. She could see the fantastical creatures that came out, but she would never have the chance to look in. “What do you think would happen if a non daemon was able to enter your world? Would they change like in Faery?” It was a theory that made some sort of illogical sense to the elf. People must change to fit their land. When people entered Faery and were not fae, the food consumed them and made them part of the land.

This world of daemons was as mystical to her as Faeryland, perhaps more so. Raylene grew up going in between worlds. Faeryland was home to her. She knew it. She understood it as much as anyone could. It was no mystery to her, although it was filled with magnificent wonders and unrivaled beauty. The daemon land was different. Raylene was held in thrall by that which she did not know. She knew that, as she spoke, her eyes were widened with the infinite curiosity of a child. It was a curiosity long absent from her life and a part of her cherished its return.

Why had she never asked these questions before? She suppose the moment had never been right. Surrounded by so much responsibility and strife, Gabriel and Raylene had a more political relationship. Politics were not welcome in the wild presence of fae revelry. For the first time in a long time, the elf was able to question and wonder. Two hundred years of life dropped away from her shoulders and she was Raylene Hope, a young elf sitting in the Elven Library with dust on her nose. Gabriel would never have seen her like this. Few people ever had.

This night pulled from her something that she lost. That was the magic of Faeryland. That was the magic Raylene fought so hard to preserve. And the magic that was being so carelessly destroyed. The shadow of a frown nearly stole away her relaxed curiosity, but she quickly banished such evil thoughts into the night. Frowns did not belong in that cave, among so many dancing fae. The night was quickly swelling to a crescendo as everyone felt the climax approaching. Soon it would be time for the Honored Dance. Raylene would not spoil this night with thoughts of war.

[Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar]

Gabriel took his time answering - he was occupied enjoying the changes that the magic wrought in her. She had never looked old (in fact, Gabriel had yet to meet many Fae that did) but now she looked suddenly younger, almost childish. It was wonderful. A delighted smile danced on the Daemon's lips, a spark of pleasure reaching his eyes. It seemed even Raylene Hope, one of the strongest and most determined Fae he had ever met, usually so serious and focused...it seemed even she could be released by the Faery magic. He felt momentarily sad - this was how she should always be. Light-hearted and youthful in mind and spirit as well as body. It was this that the death and war were stealing away.

But Gabriel, too, brushed away the sadness. Tonight was a time to forget worldly cares, to lose oneself in the most primitive and fundamental magic of Illinor. Though he missed his true home he had come to love this forest, and though the only Daemon magic available to him now resided in himself he could still enjoy the magic of the Fae, even if he couldn't ever be truly part of it.

Eventually Gabriel considered her question, head tilting as he thought about it so dark hair spilled over his eyes.
"I really don't know," he decided. "No intelligent being other than Daemons have ever strayed into our world. Before I came to Illinor, I had no idea other species even existed." Would their harsh, wild land turn visitors feral, the same way Faeryland turned visitors mystical? It was an interesting thought.
"Our magic isn't the same as yours. It's by nature darker, more insidious, treacherous. Perhaps the magic of the land would corrupt an unwary wanderer. I will probably never know." Gabriel, like anyone else now in Illinor, could never return to the Old World. And even if he could nothing remained for him there. He considered Illinor his home now.

Gabriel glanced up from their intimate conversation as he felt the energy changing, swelling to fill the cave, washing over him with rushes of adrenaline and excitement. It was infectious; he shifted, caught in the magic.
"Must be time for the dance soon," he murmered, watching the beautiful leaping forms drenched in firelight and fairy dust. "Will you be joining the dancing at all, Lady Raylene?" He asked, an inflection of gentle humour in his voice at the formality he used only in jest.

[Raylene Hope]

His smile of pleasure lit something bright within her. It was as though that smile, that one single smile, had the power to tell the elf it was okay. Raylene was allowed to enjoy the night and indulge in her curiosity. That careful, stiff control she still had melted away somewhat. Not completely, it could never leave completely. Her senses were still sharp and alert, continuously waiting for some disaster to unfold. Gabriel had melted her conscious mind, allowing Raylene to sink into her abandoned childhood. The suspicious subconscious would never be turned off. She had to forever be on the lookout.

The mystery of the daemon lord’s words caught her lovingly and inexorably in its wild embrace. Images of the Tangle were flitting through her head, the Tangle mixed with the Northern Ice. Raylene knew no harsher lands than those. She felt the need to know, to see. What would happen if she ate their food? It was a tantalizing question. Tantalizing because there was no way for her to know. But it was better that way. Should the opportunity arise, would Raylene risk everything she had become simply for a chance to solve the mystery? She could not, and that self-control would break her in some way.

Oh, but now he spoke of the dancing. The elf was gently pulled back into her own world. Raylene loved this world. She looked at the dancers and then back at him. “If only I could, Daemon Lord. Elven grace does not mean I know the steps of the dance. Nor do I possess such wanton abandonment.” Her smile was serene as she spoke. Raylene hid the longing she felt to join her people in dance. She was too aloof. To distant. Her people expected her to watch over them. Raylene had always been treated older than her age.

But the night was calling to her and Gabriel’s smile had whispered in her ear. It is okay, tonight, to be free of your burdens. “Unless, of course, the daemon lord is willing to teach the high elf how to dance?” It was a question punctuated with a smile, as well as a very clear bargain. I will join in if you join in. There was almost a challenge of bravery in her voice, but not quite. It lacked the pressure of a challenge. Hope for a fun evening flared inside of her and Raylene Hope began to glow with Faery magic, a soft melon tinted light.

[Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar]

Gabriel watched for a moment in pleased wonderment, marvelling at the way the Fae magic so generously infused Raylene as she allowed it. She, indeed all of the Fae, glowed with an inner harmony that dashed soft colours of their skin and brightened their eyes. Not for the first time the Demon delighted in the presence of these mystical, whimsical creatures so connected to the land and magic.

When she answered, Gabriel laughed softly. It was an entrancing sound, husky and inviting. He should have expected that! He would take that bargain; though he could not dance like the Fae, he couldn't lose himself in their fairy tale abandon, he could still dance.
"Of course, High Elf." The Demon stood, still holding her hand, offering her the other in a gesture of gentlemanly elegance. "How could I resist such an invitation?" He smiled, joy in his eyes. Firelight played over his skin and just a little of that magic touched him, allowing him to share the Fae's mythical delight. Even then, though, it differed in him, had a different effect on a Daemon than it did on a Fae. They reflected the soft colours of light refracted through crystal - delicate pinks, purples, yellows. And sudden'y he was bathed in strong sapphire, fizzing emerald, rich violet, painted powerfully over the pale canvas of his skin. His eyes seemed even brighter than usual, the unnatural irises too bright for the pretty elegance of the Fae world.

"I cannot dance as your people do, love. But I will dance as my own magic allows. You will have to let me lead." He waited her answer before beginning - after all, this would be an interesting exercise. Raylene, so controlled and independent, having to allow another to guide her...perhaps the Fae magic would allow that, too.

[Raylene Hope]

His laugh seemed to echo in her mind. It reminded her of rich, warm things. The smell of earth and the safety of caves. It drew her towards him, but it was the Faery magic that propelled her. It was not lust or attraction or romance, but the purity of magic and freedom. When he accepted, her heart soared. She watched in awe as he, too, was enveloped in the magic of the night. Raylene had never seen a daemon bathed in the light of their magic. It was different the that of the fae. Wonder etched its way across her face.

When he spoke, his words echoed as the laugh had. At first, they were hard to understand. Faeryland and Faery magic was a constant distraction to the mind. It was meant to draw away serious thoughts. Non-fae could easily be driven mad when faced with Faery magic in its pure form. An understanding of fae nature was paramount. As an elf, she maintained more rational thought than other fae species. Her mind unraveled the sounds coming out of Gabriel’s mouth. He had to lead? It was a funny thought. Raylene laughed brightly before taking his other hand. “Lead away, Daemon Lord.”

Raylene was not sure how many people could have led her in a dance. Although below her in terms of the vague fae laws, Raylene respected Gabriel and looked to him as her equal.

The music swelled around them as another song started. It was perfect. There was never any breaks between the songs. Rather, each song gently faded into the next. It was seamless. Timeless. It was impossible to tell how many musicians were even playing. At times, it all seemed like one voice, one instrument. At other times, it felt like thousands. The musicians were scattered around the cave, fading in and out of reality as they moved back and forth between the worlds.

ooc:: This is a trippy party. xD

[Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar]

Gabriel hesitated only a moment more, catching the subtle beat of the music beneath soaring instrumentals, wondering at the unearthly sweet voice rippling through the crystal cave. For this moment in time he could allow himself to revel in his magic in its most simple form, something the diplomat and charmer rarely indulged in and yet something that defined the bardic performer within, basic and pure and so often hidden. The swell and drift of music moved naturally through him, infusing him with energy and easy understanding. He could decipher the tune without effort and also without effort, he could lose himself in that same lilting melody, caught in the art form that was dance.

His steps reflected the Daemon himself. Masculine, showy, flawless and enchanting to watch - but the focus in such a dance was ones partner and Gabriel knew how to show his off. His gentle guidance at her waist and hand led Raylene naturally into a dramatic, energising waltz. He went slowly at first to allow her to find her feet but his strength was such that he would not allow her to stumble or falter - he moved in such a way that she could not help but follow with seamless grace. Such was his talent that he could speed up without increased difficulty for Raylene, throw in joyful spins and even, with a wicked grin, catch her falling form inches from the ground with Demon fangs at her throat, so close his breath fluttered coolly on her skin. Then, his expression radiant, he lost himself in the dance once more.

"This is how a Demon dances, High Elf. Nothing like your kind's beautiful abandon, but perhaps you enjoy it nonetheless?" His movements were effortless and natural and he spoke without breathlessness, his eyes fixed on hers. Yet he never stumbled or interrupted the other dancers, melting into the swirling throng with easy grace.

[Raylene Hope]

The dance was perfect. Then again, how could she have expected anything different? He was Gabriel. She laughed as delight glittered across her skin in the form of melon hued magic, created joyful light in her icy eyes, and infused her laugh with liquid warmth. She was surprised by how effortless it felt. Raylene was graceful, but her steps followed Gabriel’s lead more easily than she would have guessed. Her bark brown hair whipped about behind her, but even that seemed graceful and beautiful. Gabriel’s dance was energetic and fun. Raylene loved the feel of it. Why had she not tried this before?

The effect the daemon magic had on her was interesting. It certainly kept her mystified and indulged, but the wildness of daemon magic was a different sort of chaos than that of fae magic. It kept her grounded in way fae magic could not. As chaotic as feral magic was, it seemed to have purpose. Fae magic was timeless and indulging, but Gabriel seemed to be carrying her forward. There was no forward in fae magic, not when it was in its purest form. Time did not pass in Faeryland. One could stay there for thousands of years, only to leave it and immediately turn to dust.

“It is a beautiful dance, Gabriel,” she said softly, gazing into his eyes and radiating that wild abandon he mentioned. His magic blended with hers to create something infinitely free but also controlled. They would not lose their minds as they danced to the songs of the muses. It was as though everyone else was gorging themselves on hard ale while they enjoyed an elegant wine. Raylene was happy she would share this dance with him. The music came to a dramatic swell and Raylene could sense the coming of the finale.

[Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar]

Gabriel's gaze was drawn to the pretty blush of green and gold that fluttered across her skin; his own mirroring flush of sapphire blue created shadows beneath his eyes and defined the musculature of his chest, made obvious the taut lengths of tendons in his neck and the hollow where his collarbone met his throat. She was feminine, beautiful and magical while he was masculine and powerful and entrancing. To watchers it must have been a fascinating sight; these two very different creatures joined for a moment in time in the exultant dance of a Daemon Lord.

"I am glad you enjoy it, Raylene Hope. I don't share it with many, but perhaps that is a mistake!" His pleasure infused the Demon with energy and delight, rendering him playful and carefree. It was a change for Gabriel who carried the weight of fusing two worlds on his shoulders, as well as the breathing of a murderous darker side down his neck. Tonight he forgot all of this, experiencing nothing but the magic of the Fae and the magic of a Daemon, fused just for a little while. It hardly mattered that despite his words he would still dance only when the magic caught his mind and spirit and sent his emotions soaring with the Fae mysticism. No, that didn't matter at all. The only important thing was the dance here and now, and enjoying it to the full extent.

He heard the music change and his steps changed without effort. Raylene was a good dancer, as graceful as any Fae, and though he could lead almost anyone in his lilting steps it was easier and more enjoyable when one's partner wasn't a complete loss. Thus he grinned delightedly as the swell of music ignited his steps into more and more difficult patterns, only to end suddenly in an arresting spin with their faces only centimetres apart and his breaths coming as joyful laughter. After a moment he stepped back and bowed with an elegant, amused flourish.

"Seldom do I enjoy dancing so much, Raylene. Thank you for being such a fufilling partner. But I think it is time we concede the stage for the real dancer of the night." He was still smiling as he returned to their seat in anticipation of the wolf dance. With his hair in disarray and eyes wild with delight, he was the beautiful but wild Demon once more but no longer the bardic dancer, lost in revelry. It was not really a bad thing though; he kept that part of himself for occasions that deserved it, and it was that much more special for its rarity.