Click-click-click went the knitting needles. With nothing to otherwise occupy her time over the past several days, Valandris had knit one shirt, four pairs of stockings, and now half a scarf. She could not deny that boredom had a certain way of fostering one's productivity, but all the scarves and stockings in the world could not make the boredom enjoyable. After all, she had not come all the way from Stormwind to knit like a housewife, had she?

She had managed to secure a corner in the tavern all for herself. Surrounding her were stacks of yarn that acted as a sort of barrier between her and the crowd, and for the most part she was left to knit in peace. She smiled when she was smiled at, nodded when appropriate, and pointedly ignored any ribald remarks directed her way.

The end of one needle tangled itself in the delicate yarn, threatening to unravel the nearby stitches. As Valandris set about carefully detaching the needle, a voice came from somewhere by her elbow.

"Afternoon."

Looking up to see Iyona, Valandris concealed her surprise with a smile. They had seen each other on several occasions since their encounter by the lake, but Iyona had avoided speaking to her each of those times.

"Oh, good afternoon!" said Valandris, her hands stilling on the needles. "Would you care to join me?"

Iyona perched on the edge of a chair a short distance away and offered a smile of her own. Her hands twisted in her lap and her eyes darted about the room, but she seemed determined to keep the smile pasted on her face no matter what.

"It's been rather a while, hasn't it?" asked Valandris. "You've been well, I hope?"

"Yeah," said Iyona with a nod. Seemingly as an afterthought, she asked, "You?"

"I have been as well, thank you. But I've found myself a bit, I don't know, listless; there's been little for me to do. It's very nice to have someone to talk to."

Iyona looked her once over. "What're you here for, anyway? It's obvious you're not from around here."

It was unclear from Iyona's tone whether or not this was an insult or a compliment, but Valandris preferred to think the latter.

"It's my parents, you see," said Valandris. "I come from a very long line of mages and enchanters, and my parents are eager that I should follow in their footsteps. And what better way to learn than leaving Stormwind and experiencing the rigors of the wild?"

Iyona's smile turned into a grin. "The wild, really? This place?"

Valandris quickly shook her head. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that. Goldshire is a wonderful town. But it provides me with more opportunities to practice my magic-- there's only so much you can do with target dummies, after all."

"So you're here to turn the Defias into a buncha sheep?"

"Something along those lines," said Valandris. "Once my parents are satisfied with my progress, I will be returning to Stormwind."

Iyona rose. "Sounds like you've got your work cut out for you. Good luck, Miss Valandris."

Valandris stood as well, not ready to put to an end the first real conversation she'd had in a week. "Before you go-- did you happen to like the dress?"

Iyona's smile turned sheepish, if not mildly defiant. "Haven't worn it yet."

"Oh-- well, perhaps you should, if only to try it."

After a moment's hesitation, Iyona shrugged. "Ah, nether, why not? You'll have to tell me straight how it looks on me; I don't get those city fashions."

With that, Iyona disappeared into the crowd and Valandris resumed her knitting. She felt a happy sort of glow within her that only came from knowing she had done a good deed: introducing an unfortunate street urchin to a world of finer things. Even if the authorities never gave her permission to join the militia, her time in Goldshire would have been made worthwhile.

Two familiar faces then caught her eye: Tamm and Symion. As the two navigated their way through the crowd, she was again struck by what an unlikely duo they made: the paladin and the dandy, one with a brooding scowl and the other smiling at anything that wore a skirt.

In spite of all of Symion's smiles, Valandris could not help but notice that he seemed somehow subdued. He looked back often at Tamm, as though afraid of losing him in the throng of people. And by the looks of Tamm, Symion had good cause to be concerned; the paladin had his gaze fixed straight ahead and he hardly seemed to be paying attention to where he was going, or even those he bumped into.

Valandris snatched up the half-finished scarf and waved it like a flag, hoping to draw their attention amidst the clamor of the tavern. She only succeeded in attracting the attention of a rather stout dwarf who smelled like cabbage. With a sigh (and an awkward smile to the cabbagey dwarf) she dropped the knitting back into her lap.

To her satisfaction, Symion did eventually look her way. He smiled at her (a tad more sincerely than his smiles had been towards the other women, she thought) and steered Tamm to her corner. Once before her, Symion bowed grandly and Tamm either nodded or simply twitched.

"Valandris, you're a sight for sore eyes," said Symion.

Somehow, the informal use of her name did not bother her as much as it should have. She greeted them both and requested they join her, which they did. Symion promptly ordered a round of drinks before turning his attention to her knitting.

"Sewing," he said with a profound nod, "How resourceful."

"Thank you, but it's not sewing so much as--"

Valandris trailed off as she saw Iyona edging around the mass of tavern goers, head down and shoulders squared.

When Iyona reached the trio in the corner, she failed to notice either Symion or Tamm. Arms akimbo, she demanded of Valandris, "What do you think?"

"I think you look very nice," answered Valandris, realizing this was actually true. The dress fit Iyona remarkably well, somehow managing to force the slender lines of her body into a more womanly shape. If one could ignore Iyona's unkempt hair and the dagger still hanging at her hip, one could almost imagine Iyona as a lady of good breeding.

Tamm spoke his first words for that evening, saying abruptly, "Miss Elras."

Iyona turned, only then noticing the men. Her eyes widened before narrowing as she said, "What are you doing here?"

Symion took over before Tamm could speak. "Why, can't two men find shelter from the bitter cold? You are cruel, Lady, very cruel."

Iyona huffed. "Maybe, if it weren't blazing hot out today."

Unruffled, Symion smiled, saying, "A technicality. Now, why don't you join us? Let Tamm buy you a drink."

"That's probably something he should offer, himself," said Iyona.

"What? A lady as pretty as you shouldn't refuse anyone her company; that's practically criminal."

"Yeah, yeah," said Iyona, rolling her eyes, obviously doing her best to squelch any signs that she appreciated his flattery. "Your friend doesn't like me very much, remember?"

Tamm straightened, meeting her eyes for a moment. "I don't mind, Miss Elras."

"Oh."

Just like that, Iyona ceased her arguments and sank into the nearest chair. Like before, she sat very straight, very stiff, hands clasped tightly in her lap. The dress she now wore only added to the image of austerity.

Symion, of course, had also noticed the change in Iyona's appearance. "You're looking lovely tonight, Iyona. There's something a bit different about how you look tonight; I just can't put my finger on it. Your hair-- tell me you did something with your hair."

Some of the tension eased from Iyona's shoulders and she grinned; something in her expression attempted to look annoyed, and failed. "No, not that."

"Hm…"

Symion tapped his nose thoughtfully as he studied Iyona with exaggerated thoughtfulness. There was nothing particularly lecherous about the manner of his attentions, but Valandris could not help but wonder how he and Iyona found such humor in the exchange.

Looking to the taller man beside him, Symion asked, "Tamm, what do you think it could be?"

"She's wearing a dress," said Tamm without looking up. He did not smile like the others did-- perhaps, like it had with Valandris, the humor of the situation went over his head.

The opening that Valandris had been waiting for in the conversation finally came, and she said very casually, "I made it."

She had intended to sound like all her peers in Stormwind who, in the course of any conversation, could graciously draw attention to their accomplishments, great or small. But the reactions of the others told her that she had somehow missed the mark. Iyona, of course, already knew (and hadn't been impressed the first time) and Tamm just continued to stare at his boots. Only Symion responded, and his quick grin was enough to salvage at least a little of her pride.

"Tamm," said Symion, lolling his head to one side to look at his friend, "buy us another round, won't you?"

"You've had too much to drink already."

"And you've had not nearly enough!" said Symion, shaking Tamm's still-full flask of port as evidence. "Really, you need to remember where you are. Nobody should be allowed to stay in Goldshire unless they've drunk themselves halfway into a coma."

"I think you mean," interjected Iyona, "Nobody wants to stay in Goldshire unless they've drunk themselves halfway into a coma. The rest should have too much sense to stay."

Symion smiled, flagging down the nearest serving wench. "And yet, here we are."