Charmat and Rumil's dance

Aldarwen goes to the front of the Stage once again, her eyes still blurred by the tears, she says with her sweet voice, "Thank you, Elayne, wonderful story!" She glances at the audience around and adds, "We will now watch The Fest of Dance"

Aldarwen continues, "Charmat, Herbmaster of the Cuigrithweg and Rumil, Knight-Commander of the Order of Lorien, please come to the Stage"

At the announcement, Rumil's eyes enlargen and he silently gulps, evidently a little late as usual. He begins searching the crowd, unconsciousily clutching a pendant that hangs from his neck on a silver chain.

Charmat blinks, stiffening. Pushing herself high on her toes, her head angles around looking for the other half of the duo. A vast smile alights on her tender lips as she spots Rumil. Another second and her eyes widen when she notes his atire. Without a word she slowly makes her way through the crowd, the crystals that dangle at her ankle chiming softly.

Aldarwen goes to a corner of the stage and watches the pair as they get together.

All eyes of those close-by now turn upon Rumil, who silently wishes he had his cloak on to pull up the hood about his slightly pink face. Even the guard's hand searches momentarily for the hood as he strides forth, toward the stage. He keeps his gaze at his feet, issuing silent prayers before he glances up and looks at his dancing partner.

Althea turns slightly to watch as Rumil and Charmat maeks their way to the stage

Erana smiles as the dancers take the stage. She says something to herself. Charmat stops before the stage, spinning about fluidly, her hand extended toward Rumil as she waits for him to arrive at her side.

Rumil takes the hand offered, dipping his head slowly as he does so and then whispers something to the Herbmaster, a smile starting to break free, "... ... ... this ......?"

Althea leans back in her seat, a smile appearing on her face as she watches the two prepare.

Charmat formally inclines her head toward the Commander, though she whispers in silken tones, "Yours...." she lies, though with an air of innocence. Leading, the maiden steps up onto the stage, gently dragging Rumil along with.

Ainael grins in eager anticipation of the dance.

Calelia having thoroughly dried her eyes on Earsul's shoulder, sits up straighter in excitement, eagerly awaiting the dance.

Terridan leans up against the side of the stage, watching Rumil and Charmat ascend the stage. He closes his eyes, and begins his own preparations.

A couple of steps behind Rumil comes a quite familiar bard, whose flute he unwraps from its leather encasing with ease and after a slight bow to the crowd, begins playing. Even before Charmat and Rumil begin to dance, the flute fills the air with a serene sound, its melody at first slow but intoxicating and indulging of the mind's mood.

The velvet clad maiden on the stage lets go of the Commander's hand, skating wistfully across the stage toward a candle, placed in the commotion by someone. As you look, you will notice there are 5 candles, all placed at a specific point, possibly creating a star. Charmat lights each one in turn, then turns back to Rumil, hand extended in a graceful arch. Below the softly blowing flute music you may be able to hear her whisper,"Ready, Mellon?"

Althea's ears perk up at the tune and she focuses on the music for a few moments before directing her attetion back to the dancers.

Rumil's brightly lit eyes, much the same hue and intensity as the candles, meet Charmat's, and the wordless exchange is followed by the guard's directing of the maiden into the center of the candles, both their steps slow but nearly mirrored in movement.

Elayne watches in an oddly reserved silence. She wraps her arms about her knees, a smile of something akin to delight as she gazes upon the Herbmaster and her partner.

Silken tendrils of lengthy whispering white hair brush wistfully across burgandy velvet as the dance begins, Charmat places a slender hand in Rumil's free one, and they begin to step. His long leg reaches toward hers, only for hers to dash back and away, as if eluding his. In this they repeat with the other, stepping back toward a candle.

After the music rises above din of the crowd and then lures your gaze into the star of candles, it lowers in volume and shrinks into the back of your minds, always there yet mpy enough to notice its periodical changes in rhythm. The bard, whose flute provides such wondrous background music, also steps back as the two figures begin to dance ....

Althea takes a deep breath and sighs softly as she watches the two of them move together in the dance

Terridan watches the pair dance, smiling widely as he does.

The candles softly illuminating the stage act as guides and however near the closely dancing pair - Rumil holds Charmat's hands near his chest and the guard's long legs seem to step within a hair of the herbmasters' - their steps never dare touch the candles.

Ainael smiles and nods with pleasure at the beautiful dance.

The slight graceful maiden moves in gentle elegance with the tall breathtakingly handsome elf. Their moves each a mirror of the other, magical moments caught in a drifting of time. With each point of candlelight, the steps grow faster, and soon they are whiping about the star, their steps deftly careful.

Althea smiles as she watches the footwork

Just as the flute had slid into the recesses of your mind, it jumps back into the forefront - much as the bard who so masterfully orchestrates the music does as well. While he holds the flute with two hands, the bard's right foot begins pounding upon the stage in rhythmic fashion and his head begins to bob at the same pace.

Just as the music begins to pick up in pace, the couple's tight, nearly interwoven steps break up. Rumil extends his arms, allowing Charmat's graceful steps to come nearest the candles, while the guard remains in the center - his steps just quick enough to stay with the lighter feet of his partner.

Gallia silently makes her way around the edge of the crowd, slipping out of the theatre area and heading for the courtyard. With a glance over her shoulder at the dancing elves, she disappears.

The tassles of the maiden's shawl swing wildly as she breaks into this part of the dance, her feet barely touching the ground before swifting around to circle the other leg again. In and out she goes, always returning to the elf in the center, curling inward on his arm. Strangely this part of the dance seems wild, but in a carefully calculated manner.

The joyous sounds floating upon the air now bring the flutist to a new high, his feet picking up and down in such timely fashion that he mimics the guard within the center of the star. But not for long, as soon enough he is skipping around the outside of the star, his head and flute held high and his agile, tireless fingers working the magic.

Ainael smiles with joy.

This hand-clapping, foot-stomping pace of joyous music continues for several moments until suddenly the bard stops skipping, sinks to his knees and lifts his head and flute high and puffs out the last, long note that ends only when Rumil and Charmat are back in the middle of the star, their hands held close at chest-high and their faces beat red from exhaustion

Terridan smiles widely, then begins to applaude the two dancers.

Charmat's musical laughter rings true about the theater, her head falling back with glee. The dance is over, now she can breathe again.

Erana looks at the top plate, trying to decide what sweet to eat. She starts to clap for the dancers.

Ainael stands and applaudes.

Erana scratches her chin and decides to go with the shortbread.

Breathing heavy, Rumil drops to a knee and bows in front of his partner, holding her hand high as he quickly looks at the candles, wondering if any were knocked down.

Aldarwen claps from the stage corner toward the dancers, "Beautiful, mellyn, indeed beautiful!".

Althea cheers as the dances comes to a end and applaudes vigorusly

Erana grabs a handful of lemon squares and shortbread. She weaves her way through the elves to an empty spot on one of the benches and sits down.

No candles were knocked down, but one flame put out by the rushing air caused by her dress. Charmat looks down upon the kneeling elf and tussles his hair. "Thank you Commander. Thank you very much." Her eyes sparkle with a neverending blissful light.

Terridan closes his eyes, then begins to take several deep breaths...

The bard, still upon his knees, also bows before the crowd, before rising and walking off the stage, joyfully waving at those about.

Ainael says, "Excellent performance!"

Erana frowns as she has forgotten a napkin. She gets up and grabs one, quickly returning to her seat before it is taken.

The Commander stands, elegant and stately, and still holding Charmat's hand, they walk off the stage and into the watching masses.