The music stopped.
Actually, not only had the music stopped, but the talking, dancing, and general revelry, had all fallen silent when he finally stepped into the massive ballroom.
His heart was hammering hard against his ribs, but he refused to show his nerves as he kept his back straight and calmly walked forward with sure, even strides. His shoulder-length hair lifted gently on an invisible breeze and his cold green eye met the gaze of almost every single person staring at him.
To his surprise, several of them even averted their eyes when they met his, showing clear signs of being uncomfortable. They were signs of submission, and they went straight to his head as an easy grin slid across his lips and he felt himself calm down a little.
Of course, Garlic was a whole other story. The poor fella was just about to piss himself, and probably would have if he'd had control of a real body.
Your vampire is right behind us. He won't let anything happen to you, little one... and neither will I.
Garlic gave a shrill whine and danced on his paws for several moments, making Marquise inwardly sigh before looking over his shoulder.
See? He's right there.
Garlic grunted a few times, then whined again before nudging himself forward until he could see through Marquise's eyes. By that time Vrasje had caught up to them and now stood right at his side, looking slightly down at him with a calm yet-stern expression on his face.
Are you being a good pup, Garlic?
The little wolf immediately quieted its complaints and settled down, earning a good boy from Vrasje and a slight grin from Marquise.
You are a good boy. Just rest there and watch how your other half handles all these people.
The first person who approached them was, of course, his adorably-handsome master. Taru was dressed to a T in a black tuxedo and light purple dress shirt. His hair was also styled a bit. Messy but cute.
That smile, though, outshines all of his fancy clothing instantly.
Marquise stood a little straighter and gave his best smile in return.
"Welcome, sweetheart," Taru said as he reached out and took Marquise's free hand in both of his, then squeezed gently.
"I'm so glad that you're here. I'm so glad that I could bring you home."
Damn, his eye was getting a little watery...
"You did well, Taru. I wasn't sure at first, but I am positive now. You couldn't have picked a better heir to continue our line," Vrasje said, his voice loud enough to easily carry across the still-quiet room.
Those words seemed to be enough to thaw the ice that had previously held everyone silently in place. Soon, whispers started up around them, turning quickly into murmurs, then regular chatting.
Everyone was talking about him now. Most of it had to do with Vrasje's approval of a werewolf, while some of the other things he caught mentioned Taru no longer being available as a sire, worries about having a werewolf around in general, and, to his surprise, curiosity about when he'd be willing to take an heir!
"I knew they would like you!" Taru said as the band finally started up again, drowning out a lot of the conversations as he was tugged down from the slightly raised area they'd walked in on and led over toward the dance floor. He was definitely not a dancer, and even if he wasn't partially rotten, he had never been good at pretending to be a human in that aspect.
I'm not sure if like is the right word, but at least there haven't been any openly hostile reactions.
"Don't worry, hun. We'll just go slow and do a little bit. Just for face," Taru said as Vrasje took his cane, then his master seamlessly guided him in a simple, yet surprisingly-fun waltz. They were the slowest ones there, by far, but Taru didn't seem to mind, and to his surprise, no one else bothered or bumped into them, either.
By the time they stepped off the dance floor, Marquise was quite a bit winded.
"You did very well," Taru said before giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.
He'd noticed the guy reaching toward his head, but he'd redirected quickly since they were in quite a big crowd with more than enough eyes on them to make any kind of attention awkward.
"Here," Vrasje said as he stepped back up to his side and handed him his cane.
Marquise immediately thanked him, grateful that he had something to lean on again. He was a bit startled when he felt the man's arm wrap around his own free one, then begin leading him forward, though.
At least Taru is walking with us.
"Lord Vrasje?"
Marquise quickly turned his attention back to facing forward and was a bit surprised to see an older gentleman waiting a few steps ahead of them.
"Good evening, lord Vrasje and greetings, master Taru. I give you my congratulations. You have chosen a fine heir for yourself."
Marquise felt a little strange hearing such a compliment, but he bowed his head respectfully nonetheless, then blinked in shock as he noticed a long line of people forming behind the man before them.
Do I... have to greet them all?
Vrasje grinned at his side and began leading him forward.
We will walk along the line instead of waiting for everyone to come to us. It will get the greetings over quicker.
That sounded reasonable.
So, they spent the next half hour doing introductions, then one more quick dance, this time with Vrasje, before he was finally able to sit down at one of the long dinner tables set up around the edges of the room.
"Here, Marra," Vrasje said, drawing his attention up to him as he handed over a flute of spiked blood.
He also held a normal glass, in case he didn't want to drink alcohol. Normally, the regular one would be his choice, but tonight was a special occasion and he'd already interacted with more than enough people to last him till the end the year, so a little liquid courage was honestly appreciated.
Marquise actually downed three flutes before Taru brought him over something to eat. Already being drunk by then made the night a lot more fun. Time flew by faster and faster as he nibbled at this and that, and drank a bit more. Everyone wanted to talk to him and everything they said just seemed so much funnier than it should have.
Even Vrasje, who had taken a seat beside him, was somehow making him laugh without saying anything intentionally funny.
"I think it's about time to wrap things up. At least for our heir," Vrasje said, making Marquise groggily look over at him with a blank pout.
"That stare is definitely telling me that it's time for you to go get some rest," Vrsaje said as he turned his attention toward the still-full table of guests watching them.
"If you'll excuse us. He's still recovering from some injuries and I believe I might have allowed too much alcohol this evening. Please, stay and enjoy yourselves," he said before helping Marquise to his unsteady feet.
He nearly fell as the man wrapped one arm around his waist and held his other hand, trying to keep him close, but all Marquise could do in response to nearly face-planting was let out a few quiet giggles.
"Alright, this clearly isn't going to work," Vrasje said as he handed Marquise's cane to Taru, who had hurried over with Kova right behind him.
He then carefully but quickly lifted Marquise up into his arms and carried him toward one of the back doors.
"Mmm, pumbal ah wadging," Marquise mumbled as he wrapped his arms around Vrasje's neck and settled his chin upon the man's shoulder.
He felt Vrasje's arms tighten around him as they finally ducked through a door, leaving the numerous gazes of curious onlookers behind them.
"Jeya, emeon as wadging. Soonun ah pigd me ub," Marquise said, making Vrasje finally respond with a hum of agreement.
"You drank a bit too much, love. You weren't able to walk. I had to pick you up."
Marquise heaved a loud sigh that ended in a drunken groan, earning a quiet chuckle from the man carrying him.
"You going to be okay, love? Do you need me to stop?" Vrasje asked as he gently but firmly rubbed Marquise's back in a soothing circular motion.
Another quiet groan was Marquise's first response, which was soon followed by a mumbled, "please."
They stopped in the next washroom they came across, and after relieving himself of what felt like a river, Vrasje helped Marquise wash up, clean off the makeup, then clean his teeth.
By the time he was back in the man's arms, he was already half asleep.
"You can rest, hun. I'll bring you to your room," Vrasje said as they finally headed up the stairs.
Marquise snuggled in, his eye already closed as the rhythmic pace of Vrasje's footsteps relaxed him further. At some point they got to his room, but he was honestly a bit warm, and Vrasje was currently running pretty cold, so even mostly asleep, he refused to release the other man.
He heard him say something about this or that a few times, and also felt a few tugs on his arms, but alas, he was going nowhere without a lot more force.
"You're a strong brat when you want to be," Vrasje said, his words finally managing to get through Marquise's fuzzy mind.
Except, when he finally turned his head to rest on its side so that he could look at the man partially glaring at him, having evidently lied down with him situated partially atop his chest, Marquise didn't really seem to care. In fact, he reached up with one hand and pressed a finger right to Vrasje's pursed lips.
"Shh."
Vrasje scowled at him, then replied into his mind.
You need to let go so that you can go to sleep. This is your bed.
Marquise let his fingers curl and slide down along Vrasje's jaw until his hand thumped lightly against his chest as he contemplated those words, trying to piece together their meaning through the haze of alcohol clouding his mind.
When he finally seemed to understand what he said, the only response he got was an "ah," before Marquise settled down again and nuzzled his cheek against the man's shoulder.
"Marquise?"
Silence.
"Marquise, I'm going to lift you up, okay?" Vrasje said as he reached down and gently grasped his waist.
He seemed to be about to do what he said he would, but then the pressure that was being applied above his hips faded away slowly.
"You need to tell me to leave, love."
Marquise gave a quiet groan and licked his lips, but didn't bother opening his eye.
"Garlic wus good... behabe."
He could sense Vrasje's frustration in his mind, but after a few minutes of stewing, the man gave out a long, audible sigh before his body shifted quite a bit beneath him, then settled.
"I suppose he does deserve a reward. He behaved better than you did," Vrasje said, earning a near-mute "mn," from Marquise.
"Tch."
Marquise felt one of the man's hands drift up along his coat until it settled against his upper back and began to rub, while the other stayed at his waist and gripped it firmly but gently.
"Fine, I'll stay here tonight, but this is Garlic's reward for behaving, not yours. He better be what I wake up to," he said with a huff, making Marquise giggle the tiniest bit more before he finally began to drift off.
Vrasje said a few more things during the next couple minutes, but he didn't really hear anything besides murmurs and mumbles. The last thing he remembered feeling, however, was a faint brush of fingers as they moved his bangs out of the way, then a barely-there press of something against his forehead.