Under the rule of humans and treated as nothing more than second-class citizens, the elves of the Denerim Alienage have lived a life of poverty, starvation, and under constant ridicule and belittlement. They were far from the 'true' Elvhan that their Dalish cousins proclaimed to be, and they were shunned by them. It was not unheard of that a city elf became a thief; it's almost surprising if even one could find honest work and make a living. Despised by both their own people and others, there are those who believe that an Alienage community could never be truly happy.
However, tonight is when opinions are proven wrong.
Beneath the starry sky and in the light of a blazing bonfire, the elves of the Denerim Alienage grasp hands and dance like the richest beings in all Thedas. Nothing but smiles shape their labor-weary features; children as well as adults dance and laugh together - a sight that others would jest as 'frolicking' had there been a bed of flowers.
Some that still possessed the energy stood back-to-back and clapped their hands before grasping another's. The only reason the others sat aside were to play the instruments or because their legs could no longer keep up with the mirth. Despite this, all of the others clapped along and tapped their feet to the rhythm of the music.
Among the crowd of dancing elves were those whom everybody knew. Beside the youngest child was the Alienage elder; a staggering ginger giggled excitedly and tried to dance, clearly living up to the name of the community bottle fairy; and nearby, the two redheads who have been recently betrothed and will be bringing new family to the community in only a few weeks. One was called Iroana Tabris.
Iroana and her nearby cousin took each other's hands and spun, rousing an applause from the others. The redhead had given a glance at someone in particular who was also applauding: the lithe elven man sitting nearby with a smile plastered on his face. His sharp features softened under her gaze, giving her a look that melted her insides and would make even a priestess blush.
The ginger-haired young woman said something to her cousin everyone knew as Soris, who gave her a look and started to laugh. She brushed him off and scampered over to the handsome man sitting away from the crowd. The Tabris girl extended a hand out to him, mouthing 'Leto' and something that could only be recognized as an invitation. The elven man's mossy green eyes widened at the mere idea, and he quickly but politely declined.
Iroana would have none of it. She gave him a mischievous look that could give an imp a run for his sovereigns, and she grabbed his rough hand and almost yanked him from his seat. He stumbled forward before catching himself, just in time to find himself holding the beautiful young woman in his arms mid-dance.
She gave him another grin. While he was regaining his composure, she had taken his hands to put them in their proper positions - one hand on her waist and the other holding the hand she extended, all while he stood behind her. The steps began as more elves joined in, giving her partner mere seconds to pick up the beat and step to the rhythm.
The folk dance was familiar enough that he slipped right into the motions almost naturally. His hands were kept in their proper places as they twirled and side-stepped, dancing with the bonfire instead of beside it. When Iroana craned her neck to catch a glimpse of her friend, she watched his coppery hair fluttered about in its messy ponytail, both over his angular face and the shoulders of his tan skin.
Leto's face was truly handsome when he was smiling. To be truly honest with herself, she certainly wouldn't mind if he was to be her husband; she certainly has thought about it more than once. She was already promised to another man, however, but nothing would keep her from the happiness she felt from knowing that she could bring out her partner's wonderful smile.