Where Vines Don't Grow

A Maddening Dance

Foolish, foolish girl. Just like a human to fall into association with the councilmen's son. Zircon Magos shook his head to himself, staring up at the tower window that held the Huber girl, irritation lancing through him. It had been barely 36 hours since he had deposited her to the Guard at the tower door, and she had already managed to get herself into questionable company. Not that Zircon had anything in particular against Jasper Chimikos—or not anymore. The past must remain as it is. Zircon reminded himself, forcing himself to stop scowling. He did not have the time nor the luxury to dwell on the rivalry that had once arisen between Jasper and himself, and it would do little good to think of it.

They didn't see much of one another anyway, not with Zircon on the Watch and Jasper doing . . . whatever it was that the errant first-born of a powerful fae house chose to do. Like gallivanting around with the motley folk behind his father's back and sticking his nose into Council business, the dark-haired fae man thought grimly, trying to determine just what to do about what he had seen.

Not for the first time, Zircon wished he had stuck to his intention of avoiding Marin Huber entirely, particularly now that he had been relieved of his duty. Heliodor Magos—who was Zircon's own uncle but hardly prone to praise—himself had clapped Zircon on the back, congratulated him on completing his final task as a watchmen, and encouraged him to return to his ancestral keep for the remainder of the winter. But Zircon, fool that he was, couldn't bring himself to leave the Court behind just yet.

At least initially he had done his best to stay far away from the Chimikos' tower, which wasn't difficult seeing as he had no desire to encounter slippery Spinel or any of his associates. Plus, after so many months on the Watch with only brief interludes, Zircon had a great deal of business to attend to. There were old friends to visit, debts to settle regarding the management of the keep, and medicinal draughts to acquire for his ever-ailing father. A sigh escaped him at the thought, and he wearily leaned into the tree at his back.

He had spent his day taking care of a multitude of tasks, submitting his notice of release from the Watch, visiting his father's closest friend Garnet who lived in the Gardener's Square, posting a notice for a new groundskeeper, and last of all collecting his father's latest potions from a physik named Agate. All had been going well until he had run into green-eyed Peridot and her musical companions, wandering down toward Riverfold, the lesser part of Court wherein only the motley folk and the like resided. It had struck Zircon as odd to see their lot headed toward such a locale, but upon sighting their instruments and bright costuming he realized they must have been headed off to busk on Olivine Way, one of the busiest areas of the Court.

As he had passed them, shoulders taut, eyes forward, with no intention of interacting, he had the misfortune of overhearing what it was that they were all discussing as they made their way to Riverfold:

"I cannot imagine what it must be like for her, first time amongst the 'folk after nineteen years."

A tall, thin fae man by the name of Jet was responsible for that comment, and when Zircon snuck a glance at him, he saw that his black eyes were crinkled with pity.

Peridot nodded, a sad look in her eyes. "I feel for her, truly. It must all seem very strange to her."

Rosaline and Thulite, the drum-playing brother and sister duo exchanged a glance and then closed in on Peridot, each grabbing hold of one of her arms. "Soooo, Madam Peridot, how is our odd little newcomer adjusting? Any thoughts?"

She sighed. "She's brave, I'll say that much, but I fear she may be well out of her depth with the 'folk. I hope to make a friend out of her, but she does not much seem inclined to trust me, or any of us, for that matter."

Rosaline smiled broadly then, pink eyes gleaming. "We'll see about that."

Peridot glanced curiously at her rosy-skinned friend. "What do you mean?"

Rosaline laughed and exchanged a mischievous grin with Thulite over Peridot's head. "I meant what I said, we'll see about that. And soon."

At that point the musical group had wandered beyond the range of Zircon's hearing, and he carried on up the forest road, scowling to himself.

It had been precisely this interaction that had gotten Zircon thinking about Marin Huber anew, although he had resisted to urge to rush back to the tower immediately. Instead, he had distractedly made his way into a wayside tavern, ordering a tall mug of fleurelis and shifting restlessly on a stool even as his thoughts continued to creep in her direction. While a band played in the background, a number of other fae jostling in and out of the busy tavern, Zircon's amber eyes had bored a whole into the smooth oak bar top. The words of the musicians resonated in his mind, and while he forced himself to sit still, exchanging pleasantries with those who came up to the bar beside him for well over an hour, he could not rid himself of his dratted curiosity.

Finally, he had stood abruptly up from the bar stool, tossed the barkeep a couple of coins, and gone swiftly on his way, out into the dusk air. He had, unfortunately, determined that he would be going to check on Marin Huber after all. However, as a man who prioritized duty over foolish fascination, he would do so only after depositing his father's medication at the keep.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The journey to the keep was long by human means, and though significantly shorter for the Weinenvolk, by the time Zircon had travelled down the long, curving trail to the Magos Keep, the sun had fallen beyond the horizon. The gatekeeper greeted him warmly, but warned him that his father had already retired for the evening. Feeling thoroughly guilty, Zircon passed over his satchel, bottles clinking as he did so, and then swiftly turned around. There was, he knew, no point in disturbing his father when he got so little rest as it was. Their reunion would have to wait until the morning.

For all that he normally avoided it, he knew the way back to the Chimikos tower intimately, having been ordered there on more than one occasion so as to carry about some secret Council business or another. Like depositing a kidnapping victim to them.

As he drew near the tower, music and cheerful voices reached him on the cool evening breeze, and Zircon cursed to himself, realizing that the courtyard beside the tower was bound to be full of revelers at this hour. It wasn't that he disliked dancing or festivities, it was more so that he did not enjoy foolishness, and much of what he encountered at such gatherings struck him as outrageously foolish. Why waste one's evening drinking mead and fleurelis and dancing in and out of fountains, conjuring runes willy-nilly, when one might spend a quiet evening in, reading or studying or practicing stronger magics, or enjoying the pleasant company of a choice few? Or tending to one's ailing father, as I ought to be, instead of running this fool's errand that no one sent me on, he thought sternly to himself.

Yet his feet carried him on and on, until there he was, on the edge of the courtyard, and with a couple runes to silence his feet and cover his movements, he arrived at the tower lawn. However, he was not the only person just arriving back at the tower: coming from the other direction, through a narrow woodland path, was the hurrying figure of a slender girl with dark hair, and a looming, gold-skinned man with locks of fire.

Zircon had watched with disbelieving eyes as Marin Huber with Jasper Chimikos at her side, had dashed up to the tower, eyes alight with daring as she darted through its doors. He had briefly considered confronting the both of them, for he could very easily report them to the Council, but something had kept him frozen in the shadows. For that matter, it had kept him frozen there for quite some time, until the sun had poked its head above the treetops once more.

Now, with little time left to waste, the dark-haired fae man shook his head, muttered under his breath, and determined to go on his way back to the keep, back to his father, back to things that were actually his business. His mind was still unmade as to whether or not he would expose the goings-on of the evening before. No matter what he did, however, he knew in the back of his mind, that try as he might to avoid it, he had fallen into the trap of a very maddening dance.