Chapter LXIV – Awkward Dances

"My lady, you look truly stunning."

The paladin nodded at her politely and his eyes lingered on her for a long time.

He was wearing an elegant long doublet – light grey and decorated with white embroidery. The buttons in the front seemed to be made out of real pearls and there was a silver chain around his neck, a pendant with the Imperial Dragon symbol dangling just below his chest.

"Thank you. You look very nice too," she smiled at him. It seemed somewhat strange how much money he must have invested in this event. Her clothes and accessories alone must have cost a fortune, as must have his. It was odd to see from a paladin – it seemed like an unnecessary excess.

"Thank you for all the… things. But you really shouldn't have. Everything must have been so expensive," she sighed slightly, looking up at him.

He didn't seem fazed by all the opulence at all. Granted, she knew that paladins usually didn't live in such austere conditions as the priests – they were after all often hailed as heroes for protecting civilians and given various rewards or gifts – however, she never expected something like this.

"It was no trouble, my lady. I am glad you found some items to your liking. Shall we?"

Casavir's eyes fell briefly towards Bishop who hanged back a bit, his face oddly pensive. The paladin was likely eager to get away from him.

Aeyrin nodded at him, before turning back to Bishop to say goodbye. His face was still somewhat somber as he approached her. After a while, however, he smirked, expectedly making a show for Casavir. He leaned down to kiss her pointedly squeezing her around the waist for a brief moment.

She gave him an exasperated shake of her head after he was done, but he only smirked again in response.

"See you later, princess," he mumbled in a low voice before turning on his heel and heading towards The Winking Skeever.

Casavir cleared his throat uncomfortably, offering his elbow to Aeyrin after a brief awkward moment.

She laced her arm through his, grateful that she would be somewhat supported on those heels.

They made their way towards the Blue Palace, only exchanging some polite small talk about the weather in the meantime.

She still couldn't shake her anxiety about what went on in the store and about what the rest of the night would be like.

Bishop seemed positively enthralled when he saw her, but for some strange reason, it didn't make her happy or flattered like it did before in the golden dress. It made her strangely sad. The shopkeeper got into her head. She couldn't stop wondering if he thought the same thing about her, if this was somehow a preferable version of her. It didn't feel right. She felt like she was someone else. She didn't want him to like that person more. But for all the disdain he held for nobility and opulence, he always seemed fascinated with her more when she was pushed into this role.

Social events like these made her too jittery, she was much easier to fluster around them.

They finally arrived to the Palace gardens – the beautiful scene of flowers and decorative trees in the moonlight was disturbed by a crowd of people in fancy clothes, clamoring by a large door at the side of the Palace.

She noticed some of the people whispering to themselves as they made their way through the crowd. She pressed herself a bit closer to Casavir, the crowd making her even more nervous, since she could have sworn that more and more people eyed them with curiosity. It was the capitol – unlike Windhelm, an elf's presence shouldn't probably be so strange there, right? Unless everyone heard her description from the news from Dragon Bridge…

"Ah! Sir Casavir. It is a pleasure to see you again."

A large Redguard man suddenly approached them, shaking the paladin's hand after Aeyrin quickly unlaced herself from him.

"You too, Baron V'ircim. Let me introduce…" Casavir inclined his head politely, gesturing towards Aeyrin before he got interrupted by the man.

"There's no need for introductions, my good man. Everyone has heard that you would be accompanied by the Dragonborn herself. It is a pleasure to meet you, dear," the Redguard gave her a hearty grin, taking her hand courtly and ghosting a kiss above it.

"Umm… y-yes. You too," she mumbled. What did he mean everyone heard? Did Casavir announce that she would be coming with him? And did that mean that everyone at the ball would really know who she was?

She didn't listen to the rest of their conversation, as she was now really convinced that everyone was looking at her, whispering about her.

The Redguard finally left them and she turned her gaze towards Casavir immediately, her expression somewhat accusing.

"My lady?" he gave her an uncertain look.

"Casavir, what did he mean 'everyone heard you'd be accompanied by the Dragonborn'?"

His face still looked rather confused at her question, as if this course of events was to be expected.

"My lady, it is customary to announce anyone accompanying a guest," he explained, raising an eyebrow at her curiously.

"Well… couldn't you just… give them my name… instead of…" she stammered uncomfortably, still all too aware of all the people looking at her.

"I don't understand the issue, my lady."

Aeyrin sighed in defeat, not eager to discuss her anxiety with him.

As the conversation trailed off awkwardly, Casavir approached a woman by the large door, announcing his arrival to the event. The doors were opened to them by a nearby guard and they entered the large hall.

Glittering opulence overwhelmed her senses when she saw the ballroom.

The hall was lavishly decorated, the marble floor tiles lined lightly with gold in the fissures between them, the gilded chandeliers with dangling crystals making the whole room dance with a myriad of colors. There were large flower arrangements everywhere, tables filled with veritable feasts and crowds of people everywhere, all dressed in the finest frocks and garments.

The ball put a whole new meaning to the word 'fancy'.

"Sir Casavir, of the Order of the Imperial Dragon, accompanied by lady Dragonborn!"

A loud noise startled her as a man beside the entrance door yelled for all the hall to hear.

Casavir offered her his arm again and she clustered closer to him in a pathetic attempt to hide from the crowds.

Again, there were murmurs and whispers spreading through the hall, people looking them over curiously, some even pointing at them.

This was mortifying.

"Are you alright, my lady?" Casavir creased his brows worriedly, noticing her discomfort.

"I… I'm not used to this… I feel like everyone is staring at us…" she whispered weakly, clinging to his arm.

"Yes. You must excuse them, you create quite a commotion. The rumors of your deeds are told with great enthusiasm, people are eager to get to know the real thing," he smiled. She could have sworn she even saw a hint of pride on his face.

'The real thing'… right. As if this was really her…

Bishop entered The Winking Skeever, his thoughts refusing to settle.

She looked upset ever since she appeared in that dress. Something was wrong.

And there was no doubt that the fucking tin-head will try to tell her everything again! He insinuated it plenty of times already.

He hated this feeling so much.

Stupid Delphine! If only they didn't need to spend so much time here, waiting for her suicidal plan to unfold. They could have just been enjoying themselves alone in the wilderness, adventuring and… other things.

Now everything was constantly in jeopardy.

He wouldn't just lie down and take it though.

He needed to do something. He needed to fight for her.

And she was acting strangely, he was just being concerned about her… that was a valid excuse, wasn't it? He needed to check if she's alright.

He turned on his heel promptly, leaving the tavern where he still lingered by the door.

His feet carried him determinedly towards the Blue Palace, the noise of the crowd in the garden making him groan in annoyance at what he was getting himself into.

"Ummm… who are you?"

A woman by the large door stopped him, looking him over with a disgusted expression.

"The fuck do you care? The tin-head invited me. Let me in," Bishop folded his arms across his chest expectantly, his eyes darting briefly towards the guard standing nearby.

"Uhh… I don't think so. We do not need a savage to entertain our guests. Leave, before I notify the guards," the woman scowled at him fiercely.

Fucking nobles…

If he forced his way in, it would likely create more trouble than good. Also he would probably get arrested pretty soon. And he was not going to start throwing the paladin's name around, risking that he'd be notified.

He had to think of something else.

"Is it true you battled a dragon right in the middle of a city?"

A Nord in dark embroidered coat gaped at her in astonishment.

There was a small crowd of no less than seven people surrounding her and Casavir, all asking various questions and scrutinizing her.

Casavir was very polite through the entire thing, greeting them all courteously, answering all their questions dutifully. Aeyrin, on the other hand, stammered through conversations, overwhelmed by the attention, trying her best to steer the talk away from her as the Dragonborn.

Casavir proved to be surprisingly attentive, noticing when the questions got her too nervous and excusing them away from the crowd. But there were always more of them coming a minute later.

"I… uh… suppose… but I wasn't alone… there were guards and citizens… and my companion to help me," she tried to explain as briefly as possible.

"Will you Shout for us?" the Nord man's wife exclaimed excitedly as even some of the people standing idly nearby turned their attention to her.

"What? No! That's dangerous!" Aeyrin squirmed around Casavir's arm, cringing away from the eager onlookers nervously.

"But I heard there are some that are harmless. Surely you can show us those!" another man in the crowd insisted.

She shook her head vehemently, but all the people around still looked ready to insist until she finally relented.

She hated this feeling so much. The pet Dragonborn prodded for a reaction yet again…

"Apologies, my good sir. This is hardly an appropriate place for displays of battle prowess. It is particularly tasteless in the halls of our High Queen, considering her late husband's tragic fate," Casavir threw the man a deep scowl, making the people in the crowd dip their heads somewhat in shame.

Aeyrin gave him a grateful smile as he continued, nudging their way away from the onlookers.

"If you will excuse us now, the lady and I have important matters to discuss."

He led the two of them towards the corner of the room, pulling out a chair for her courteously at one of the small tables by the wall, which were at least a little hidden in the large hall.

"Hopefully we will be undisturbed here for a little while," he gave her a kind smile as he sat himself at the other chair, facing her across the table.

"Thank you, Casavir," she returned the smile with a bashful blush, looking around still a bit warily. She could see some people looking at them still, occasionally whispering to themselves. Luckily, no one made their way towards them.

"You were uncomfortable with the questions," it was more of a statement than a question, but it was clear he wanted her to elaborate on her behavior. Gods, she was probably embarrassing him!

"Yes… I'm sorry, Casavir. I'm just not really good with crowds. And… I guess I'm still not used to the… Dragonborn thing," she sighed. She wondered if she would ever get used to it. It just still seemed like… it wasn't her. It was part of her, but… nobody cared about the other parts.

"Why are you apologizing, my lady?" Casavir raised a brow at her with a gentle quirk to his lips.

"I don't know… I guess… you must have been expecting…. someone else," she let out the last words almost silently.

He gave her a strangely compassionate look before speaking again, his head shaking in negation: "If I wanted to share the evening with anyone else, I would have invited them. Despite how it may appear, I did not wish to cause commotion. I came to enjoy these types of events. I only wished to share them with the lovely woman I met recently."

She smiled back at him again. It was a rather sweet thing to say, regardless of how uncomfortable she was there.

"You really enjoy this? Isn't it… exhausting?" she looked back towards the crowds, several people gathering in the center of the ballroom, starting to perform a strangely synchronized dance. How did they all know how to do that?

"At times, it is. But I had the pleasure of meeting the most fascinating people at events such as these. And if you distance yourself from the more… toxic aspects of their society, many of them are kind and generous souls."

She gave him a bright smile and an eager nod. It was the exact reason she loved travelling when she left the chapel. She found herself having more and more in common with the paladin each minute. If only she could claim to be as composed and refined in this environment as he was.

"You are… uncomfortable with being the Dragonborn?" he asked after a while, studying her face with curiosity.

She nodded slowly, lowering her eyes. Everyone always considered it such an honor. At first she thought it a curse. Now she was worried it was something that threatened to devour her whole identity. Ever since she read Master Therien's letter, she couldn't get the thought out of her head.

"I just… you've been here a while, you probably know that my kind doesn't get the warmest reception here. But now… I'm starting to feel like I preferred it before. At least I knew where I stood. Now everyone treats me differently, and… I feel like everyone expects some legendary hero… and they just get… me," she sighed. It was so easy to confide in him. It reminded her of the guidance she received from the priests.

It wasn't as if she never got recognized for the good she did, for helping against the dragons, but it always seemed like everyone wanted her to be… more. More impressive, mighty, proactive? Maybe they all just wanted a large Nord with large muscles to feel comfortable, not an elf who was afraid of dying after every dragon fight. She has never been insecure about her battle skills before she found out she was the Dragonborn.

"I understand that it may be disheartening. People are often callous when afraid and backed into a corner. But I assure you, my lady, you are so much more than anyone could have hoped for. No matter the mistrust or disinterest you may be met with, please know, that you are much more than what they want. Palpable strength and prowess are often more comforting at first sight, but never more important than kindness and compassion."

She gave him another grateful smile. She could almost imagine being back at the chapel, at peace, listening to a kind priest, easing her thoughts.

Their conversation trailed off for a while, this time in a comfortable and amicable silence.

The music echoed through the halls pleasantly as more and more people crowded the center of the hall, dancing in a surprisingly orderly fashion. It was nothing like the drunken dances in taverns she witnessed so far.

She looked at the large tables filled with food. No one even seemed to come near them. As if it were unseemly to eat there. She was getting pretty hungry, but it seemed strange to be the only one eating. People did clamor around the tables with drinks though.

"Would you like a drink, my lady?" Casavir asked, after noticing the direction of her gaze.

"Oh. No. That's alright, Casavir, thank you."

There were pitchers of water on every table and the answer was practically automatic around a paladin.

He chuckled softly at her, an amused expression on his face: "I know what you are doing, my lady. There is really no need for that. I am not so easily tempted."

She blushed at his words, chuckling lightly alongside him, but cringed after a while, involuntarily remembering what Bishop assumed about him and how he was… prone to fall into temptation. She shouldn't be thinking about that. Bishop's suspicions were rather unfounded after all.

"It's a habit, I suppose. I really don't need a drink though, thank you," she cursed herself a little for saying that. It would have perhaps made her less uncomfortable there, but then again, if she overdid it, she would definitely embarrass Casavir even more.

"Can I ask you something?" she piped up after a while of hesitating, eliciting a nod from him.

"All this… the feasts, parties, the clothes… isn't it… against the vows?" she bit her lower lip nervously, not certain whether she wasn't crossing the line with the insinuation. She was, however, kind of curious how seriously he took his vows, now that she started to think on Bishop's words again.

Casavir sighed deeply, his brows creasing: "It is… somewhat problematic, I admit. I have struggled with this question myself after my vigil. The truth is, this has been the way of the church for ages now, but it is not as callous as it may appear. These events and the way the Orders present themselves, it garners a sort of… fascination from certain people. When we become part of their world, we have some measure of influence over them. Then we may work on suggesting that their fortunes are better spent on the congregations than more opulence. The congregation then assures that those funds are provided to the less fortunate. Sadly, this task proved much easier in Cyrodiil. With the war and the dragons… as I said, fear and war make people callous."

Aeyrin nodded in understanding. It seemed reasonable. After all, if the paladins didn't 'infiltrate' the nobility like this, they would probably just throw all the money into more parties and dresses. And Casavir seemed rather good at making the nobles squirm in shame, it was pretty impressive. She's heard that many of the paladins came from nobility themselves. It made sense – they already likely knew how to manipulate their own kind to the church's benefit.

"I admit, my lady, I find myself regretful that you did not undergo a vigil. With questions like these… there is always need for people like you in our Order. I am sad to say that some do not treat their calling as mindfully," he sighed, giving her a wistful smile.

"I don't know… I don't think I was cut out for that. My mentor feared that I would grow resentful, that I would wish for the things I swore off. Life in the chapel was… peaceful. I needed that at the time. But now… you called it a 'calling'. It just… never 'called' to me," she shrugged uncertainly. She debated this herself for a long time then, but in the end, Master Therien knew her better than she knew herself. When he spoke about traveling the world, meeting all the different people, seeking history in ancient ruins, she was very anxious, but… so excited. She would have regretted not taking this path, despite its hardships.

Surprisingly enough, Casavir scowled deeply at her response, staring into his goblet of water as if debating with himself whether to speak.

"I understand, my lady. However, I cannot help but be concerned, that you may be headed too far in the other direction… despite your good intentions."

She gave him a wide-eyed look of surprise. What did that mean? But soon enough, the realization dawned on her – she only ever saw him wear that fierce scowl when he talked about Bishop.

"Casavir, please, I thought we were done with this! I assure you, I will not turn into a different person by simply associating with Bishop," she shook her head at him admonishingly.

"He tends to get people into troubling situations, my lady. I fear you are in more danger than you realize. Even if he meant you personally no ill, which is in itself doubtful, he has a lot of enemies, and if someone from his past decided you are a better target for revenge than him, I don't even want to think of the grim fate that would await you," Casavir looked at her almost pleadingly. Was he talking about the Guild? Or was it something else? Did he even know about the Guild?

No! Stop it! Don't pry, you gave Bishop the benefit of the doubt, don't go back on it! She admonished herself determinedly. It was his past to share, not Casavir's.

"You worry needlessly. I can take care of myself. Besides, I think I've actually gotten him in more trouble than he's gotten me," she giggled somewhat fondly, thinking on how much they've endured together. He would have definitely seen less dragons, if it weren't for her.

"My lady, if you only listen, I am sure I can make you see…"

"No! Casavir, honestly, it is not yours to tell. And whoever he was, whatever he did… doesn't he deserve a second chance?" she really needed to end this discussion quickly. Her resolve was wavering too much. She was so curious. But she hardly considered the paladin a credible source.

"He hasn't changed! He is still the same callous, rude, brigand he's always been," Casavir raised his voice suddenly, several people around peering at them curiously with the commotion.

The name calling was rather strange for a paladin, but he seemed to get really riled up about Bishop every time.

"How would you know? Frankly, if I only knew you from the interactions you two had together, I wouldn't think much of you either," she huffed in annoyance, folding her arms across her chest. "Now, please, drop the subject."

Casavir sighed defeatedly, shaking his head sadly.

"I pray for your safety, my lady. I hope you see the truth on your own before it is too late."

Fortunately, the tense mood softened after some time and the two of them returned to chatting pleasantly.

Aeyrin was really enjoying Casavir's company, her mood elevated with the knowledge that she may have found another steadfast friend in Skyrim.

But to her dismay, the curious onlookers didn't stay passive forever.

The occasional noble stopped by their table every once in a while and gradually, there was a crowd forming again. They moved to another part of the ballroom several times, but it no longer helped. And she felt rather guilty. Casavir, after all, enjoyed meeting these people, and he was too considerate of her to spend time with them. Eventually, when he suggested trying to find another quiet spot, she refused demurely, making sure he didn't think the party wasted by shying away alongside her.

The conversation went on as Aeyrin joined in only when absolutely necessary, too preoccupied with analyzing the looks and whispers around her. Casavir kept glancing at her, likely too conscious of her discomfort to relax himself.

"My lady, may I have this dance?"

He gave her a somewhat cheeky smile, as if he figured out a sly way to avoid the crowd.

Oh no… there was hardly anything worse he could have asked.

And refusing would definitely humiliate him in front of all those people!

She nodded uncertainly, her face flushing in embarrassment. This was going to end badly.

"Cas-Casavir… I can't dance…" she whispered to him as they left the crowd, heading towards the center of the room.

He chuckled lightly at her, giving her a fond smile: "My lady, there's really nothing to worry about, just follow my lead."

It wasn't that simple. He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

Dancing was simply too… coordinated and delicate. Even in battle, she usually just charged in, improvising without much attention to where she was stepping. She was agile, sure, but dancing simply required a finesse she lacked. Maybe it was also because she was mocked for her dancing whenever she attempted it, even back at the temple, when they were having fun with other initiates. She was self-conscious about it ever since.

Casavir positioned them on the dancefloor, standing in front of her; he took her left hand in his and placed his own on her back gently. They were rather close to each other, her face almost buried in his… chest. He was so much taller than her even with the heels, it must have looked comical.

Casavir attempted to lower his frame a bit with a smile as he started to lead her through the dance.

He moved just like the other dancers. It was so impressive. How did everyone know this and was able to move the same?

She, however…

"Oh! S-sorry," she stammered as she stepped on his foot… hard. Casavir only gave her a kind smile, ignoring her blunder.

He swirled her around, holding her hand above her head, nudging her into a twirl.

What? What was she supposed to do?!

Her elbow ended up twisted strangely, forcing her to pull her hand away from him with a fierce blush.

Everyone was staring at her! She heard giggles and mocking outbursts all through the ballroom.

Casavir only smiled after every mistake she made, adamantly sticking to the dance as if nothing happened.

She even managed to drive her high heel into his foot once and eventually she ended up colliding roughly against his chest.

That was it.

She was definitely embarrassing him more like this than by stammering through conversations awkwardly. She could even make out what the onlookers were saying – making jokes, snickering that they hoped she was more capable in battle than on the dancefloor.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Casavir. I can't…" she disentangled herself from him abruptly heading towards the side of the room swiftly. She awkwardly wobbled on her heels once, as if to drive the point through.

Ugh. Yes, I get it, I'm graceless.

Casavir followed her swiftly, brushing away some sycophants who attempted to stop him, wanting to talk about his partner's laughable performance.

"My lady, please, don't mind the people! Like I've said, you have to distance yourself from such behavior. It is sadly tied to these events, but the best course of action is to ignore it," he gave her an encouraging smile, laying his hand on her upper arm reassuringly.

"I… wish I could. I'm sorry… I just feel like… you must have worked hard to fit in here... I feel like I'm just ruining your evening… and reputation," she sighed sadly, still blushing in embarrassment.

"Not at all. You know I enjoy your company, and I am hardly concerned with those who would spend their nights spitting venom at someone. I'm sorry I made you so…" he trailed off suddenly, his kind smile twisting in a deep scowl as he looked past her towards the large stairwell by the entrance.

There was only ever one reason for that contemptful frown.