Dress-up Challenge Fic, Halfblood Chronicles, PG-13 Title: Pomp and Circumstance Author:theladyfeylene Fandom: The Halfblood Chronicles Characters/Pairing: Valyn Hernalth/Shana Challenge: August, Dress-up Challenge Warnings and Notes: This is an AU fic, in which the Second Wizard War ended a bit differently than it did in the books. Spoilers for 'The Elvenbane'. Summary: Shana didn't know anything about Elven politics, or custom or tradition, or how to be charming and demure at parties. She didn't even know how to put on a proper Elven gown - how on earth was she going to manage presenting herself as the Lady of the House of Hernalth?
“Shana, are you sure you want to do this?”
Shana ignored Keman for a few minutes, fingering the fine silk of the gown spread across her narrow bed. Elly had dug it up somewhere, from some old storage room. It was blue. And there were about ten different layers to it.
“Of course I want to. We need this. Besides, Valyn fought too hard in Council to waste the opportunity. Besides, it‘s just an engagement dinner. Who knows when the wedding will actually be?”
And everything Shana said was completely true. This was one of the most important political moves in the history of the Citadel. A direct marriage alliance, tying them favorably to one of the most powerful Clans in elven society. And Valyn had risked a great deal, arguing it in Council. His position was a tenuous one as it was, his views unpopular and his youth making him an easy target. If it weren’t for his family and his clear displays of power…
“Valyn doesn’t seem too happy about it,” Keman put forth.
“Valyn never seems happy about anything. Help me with the dress?” She didn’t want to talk about it. Of course Valyn was less than happy, but even he couldn’t deny that there was no other option for a marriage alliance than her.
This had to be done according to Elven laws and tradition. As head of the House of Hernalth, Valyn needed to marry prestigiously. And she was arguably the most powerful female in the Citadel. She was the right age, her power was on a level with Valyn’s, and her authority was, if not respected, recognized.
She’d known all along the excuses he’d given her for hand fasting her to Shadow were, as the humans said, bullshit.
But Valyn was, despite everything else, an Elven Lord. He knew politics, and he knew this was the only course of action they could follow. And she certainly wasn’t going to protest.
And she’d do something about Valyn’s assertions that it was a ‘political marriage only’.
But for now… she needed to get ready. The world was watching, and she couldn’t put one foot wrong.
“Uh, I think this goes on first…” Keman held up a cloth sheath that looked painfully stiff. It was silvery gray. Shana stripped off her tunic and reached for it, eyeing the line of pearl buttons skeptically.
“Goes on where?” she asked, turning it this way and that. Though from the way it was shaped, she had a pretty good idea.
“Here.” Keman took it from her and wrapped it around her torso, buttoning it snuggly. A variety of straps and scraps of fabric hung down around her thighs, tickling her bare legs.
“Fire and rain, that’s too tight!” Shana exclaimed, bending forward awkwardly. It felt so stiff and constraining, and it shoved her breasts up under her chin. How did a piece of cloth and what felt like bones make her breasts look so big?
“Can you breathe?”
“I can breathe.” But barely.
“Okay. Um. You can do the bottom bit yourself.”
“Bottom bit?” Shana looked down. “Oh. I guess that… hooks together.” Who had designed clothes like this? No wonder Elven Ladies needed handmaidens - a single person couldn’t get dressed by themselves! She fumbled with the bits and pieces hanging from the bottom, hooking them together in what seemed like the right pattern.
“There.” Shana frowned at her reflection. The sleek silvery material clung to her, and her breasts seemed to spill over the straight top. There was some sort of embroidery on it in white thread. It was cut high above her hips, and there were gauzy tails of fabric hanging down in curves. “Think I could get away with just throwing a skirt on over this?”
“I don’t think so.” Keman exhaled and picked up some more gauzy looking fabric. “This looks like it goes on next….”
Shana pulled on the blue under-dress, struggling to get her head through. It didn’t have any sleeves, but it mostly covered her. And the gauzy bits of the sheath-thing made it poof out at her hips. Her breasts were still a little too prominent for her tastes, but maybe after a few more layers they wouldn’t look so much like they were on display. It was a dark blue, with a square cut neck and no embroidery. And it too hugged her figure. Didn’t elves believe in comfortable, loose fitting clothes?
“Is it sitting right?” she asked, tugging at the fabric until it was smooth.
“I think so. Alright….hold up your arms, you’ll get lost in this on your own…”
Shana did as she was told, and Keman tugged what felt like a mountain of fabric over her head. Now there were sleeves. And a giant skirt. And a neckline that still wanted nothing more than show off that she was indeed a woman who had breasts. But this was at least close to the main event. The sleeves were tight and pointed, the fabric seemed to reflect the light like a dark moonstone, and the skirt could hide an army of sheep. But it was, Shana had to admit, a pretty dress. Even if it were completely impractical.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“Um. Let me do up your ties and then finish…”
“Finish? There’s more?” How did Elven women move? For Shana, who had never worn anything more elaborate than a tunic and trews, this was practically torture. She stood as still as she could while Keman did something to the back of her dress, and the whole thing seemed to suddenly cleave to her more tightly.
“Just hold on…” Keman urged. He was attached lengths of fabric to her hips, to her rear, to her shoulders…. Trains of silvery gauze. They looked almost like thin, wispy clouds, floating around her shoulders and hips. It was actually a very pretty effect. It even managed to take some attention away from her heaving pectorals. Keman fastened a gleaming moonstone broach between her breasts and then stepped back.
“Now are we done?” Shana asked, feeling like she was carrying ten extra pounds.
“You should probably do something with your hair…” He shrugged. “This would be so much easier if you could just shift.”
“Why don’t you do it, then?” Shana grabbed a brush and began running it through her tangle of curls. She gave up, braided the lot, and pinned it up with a comb that looked like it matched her brooch close enough.
Even with the dress and the jewels, there was no way she could ever be mistaken for an Elven Lady.
But she did look pretty.
“I think this is as good as we’re going to get,” she said, casting a nervous glance at Keman. She knew nothing of Elven traditions and customs. Or at least nothing compared to an actual Elven Lady. Valyn had said the dinner was very simple, and all she had to do was show up. But then….
She was going to have to tour all the bowers of the elven women in Valyn’s social circle. Which was bound to be an uncomfortable situation for everyone. And then the wedding itself…
“You look beautiful.” Keman smiled. “I’d hug you, but I don’t want to wrinkle your dress.”
“Can’t have that.” Shana took a deep breath. “Well… guess I’d better go. I’ll be back tonight or tomorrow. I think I have to stay over and wait for papers or something.”
“You do,” Keman confirmed. “Um. Good luck?”
Shana sighed. She’d probably need it.
***
At least Shana was getting used to the transportation spell, and she didn’t fall over every time she did it. She arrived at the front door of the Hernalth Estates in the same conditioned she’d left in.
There was a human waiting for her, dressed in Hernalth livery. He looked confused, and Shana couldn’t blame him. After centuries of rule by Dyran, Valyn had to be a bewildering change.
Shana followed the servant - Valyn would never refer to his humans as slaves - through the halls, curious as to the place Valyn had grown up in. It was an impressive place, to say the least. Gilt and polished and carpeted in plush scarlet, even the hallways were decorated and sculpted to perfection.
It seemed like hours of wandering through the halls. Shana was glad she’d not bothered with shoes - it wasn’t as though anyone could see her feet under the skirt, anyway. Finally she was ushered through a door.
If things had been surreal before, they were moreso now. Instead of some fancy dining room, she found herself standing in what looked like a clearing in the forests behind Lord Cheynar’s lands.
“What…?”
“Shana?”
There was Valyn, standing by… well, a table and chairs. That looked as though they’d grown out of the forest floor. Everything looked wet, but Shana couldn’t feel any actual moisture anywhere. And it wasn’t freezing, either. And Valyn….
Well, she’d never seen Valyn look quite so much like an Elven Lord before. He was dressed head to toe in red suede with gold trim, and his hair was braided and woven with gold and rubies. It was almost strange, to see him like that. He always dressed down when he came to the Citadel.
“Hello.” She cleared her throat, feeling awkward. “Interesting décor.”
“Shana, you look… ancestors.” Valyn cleared his throat, and gestured to the table. “Ah, please sit down. I thought that… well, I thought it would be apt. The scenery, I mean.”
It felt like carpet to Shana’s bare feet. Obviously it was an illusion, but it was an impressive one. Which she knew was the point. Not that Valyn needed to show off to her….
“I feel like a turkey all trussed up for a feast,” she admitted, fighting with her skirts to sit down comfortably.
“Where did you find a gown like that?”
“It was in storage somewhere in the Citadel.” Shana shrugged. “It was the only thing I could find that was suitable for…this.”
“It’s quite fetching.” Valyn sat down across from her, perfectly elegant and graceful. He wasn’t the one bogged down with layers of skirts. He waved a hand and plates appeared before them, fancy little bowls of soup and some sort of artfully cut bread.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” Shana said, shifting awkwardly. As much as she loved Valyn, and as much as it had seemed like a dream come true when he offered a marriage alliance, all of this was strange and confusing to her. And Valyn…. As handsome as he looked, she rather missed the dirty, soaked, irritable Valyn. There was something fake about all of this - but she supposed that was how all Elven customs went.
“Ah, old habits are hard to break,” he said, shrugging. “And besides, there’s no reason you shouldn’t be afforded every courtesy involved with marriage proceedings.”
“So this is all for my benefit? Come off it, Valyn, I’d be happy with a bit of twine and some bread and cheese.”
Valyn paused and placed his hands on the table, his face taking on that look that Shana knew all too well. He was about to explain something to her as though she were a child. She bit her lower lip and braced herself.
“I know you would be. To be perfectly blunt, that would be perfectly acceptable to me as well. But. Shana, you’re going to be my wife. You’re going to be the Lady Hernalth.” There was a funny note in Valyn’s voice when he said that, and he glanced away quickly. “I can’t change things overnight, and custom and law still remain. Elven custom and law. I don’t expect you to agree with it, I don’t expect you to know how to follow it or even to learn most of it. But you do need to get used to it.”
Shana stared down into her soup. She knew Valyn was right. What did she know about being a Lady? She was just Shana - plain as mud, coarse, blunt Shana. Fire and rain, why had she thought this was a good idea?
Her emotions must have been written on her face. Which wasn’t surprising. Another mark against her - she couldn’t hide her feelings like elves could.
“Shana, don’t worry. You’ll do all right.” Valyn reached across the table and patted one of her hands. “It may take some getting used to, but my father’s overseers - human overseers - are more than happy to help.”
“What about the elven overseers?” Shana glanced up, curious.
“Some are still in residence, some have been dismissed.” The stony note in valyn’s voice told Shana all she needed to know. The only elves remaining on the estates were those who agreed with - or would at least follow - Valyn’s attitude towards humans. And, she assumed, halfbloods.
“Just as long as you don’t try and stuff me away in some bower.”
“Shana, I’d rather face my father again than try and instate you in a bower. I do have some sense of self preservation.” He chuckled some, and she found herself laughing as well. This was more like it. “No, you’ll have a suite of rooms next to mine, and access to the entire manor.”
“Even the harem?” Shana teased, figuring she’d pester him about sleeping arrangements later. She was rewarded with a flush and a stutter, and Valyn gaped openly at her.
“I… there… Shana!” He seemed to get himself under control. “The harem has been disbanded.”
Shana didn’t say anything. Either Valyn was more of a gentleman than she’d thought, or he was about as sexual as a plant. It wasn’t like he’d be cruel to concubines, and she’d learned a little of them from Alara. Concubines liked what they did. She wondered what the Hernalth Harem was doing now….
“Things are just going to get harder, aren’t they?” she asked, suddenly. It was overwhelming to think about it. The galas, the customs, the Council, running the estates, managing trade alliances, the liege Lords….
“In some ways.” Valyn nodded. “Shana, I know you think I’m rather incompetent, but please remember I was raised to run my House and Clan. I do know what I’m doing.”
Shana bit her lip again. “I don’t think you’re incompetent,” she muttered. “I just think you’re a donkey’s ass sometimes.”
“Yes, well.” Valyn didn’t protest, he just looked away. “Oh, ancestors.”
“What?”
“We’re going to make each other miserable.” But there was the slightest twitch to Valyn’s lips when he said it.
“You’re the one who brought up marriage. I just wanted to sleep with you.”
Valyn choked on his soup. He wiped at his lips and opened his mouth as though he were going to speak, but no sound came out. Shana demurely sipped at her own soup, her eyes radiating what she hoped was innocence. She wasn’t a silly little child, despite what Valyn seemed to think.
“If we need to get you a harem…” Valyn finally said, and while Shana thought he most likely meant it to be a joke, the look in his eyes said otherwise.
“Nobody’s having any harems.” Shana set down her spoon. “And we’ll talk about this later.” Like on their wedding night. The next course came, the main course obviously. Thin strips of seasoned meat, sauces, crisp vegetables… it was, Shana had to admit, more flavorful food than she’d ever had before. After that little outburst, there was a stilted silence punctuated only by birdsong as they finished their dinner.
Shana knew what came next. She found herself grabbing handfuls of her skirts, nervously gripping them. They were good for that, at least. Her hair felt heavy, all piled up on her head like that. Valyn had gone back to being perfectly calm and collected. At least he was handsome and pleasant to look at.
“Dinner was good,” she said, her hands sweating. It was one thing to think and fantasize, another altogether to be sitting here waiting for an engagement ring. From Valyn. Fantasies never matched up with real life. There was very little romance, though Shana knew Valyn had at least tried. The fact that he’d recreated where they’d first met wasn’t lost on her. And she knew all of this was to try and help ease her into this sort of life.
It was sweet, in a strange sort of way.
“I’m glad you enjoyed. I tried to keep things plain.”
That was plain? Shana didn’t want to think what extravagant was. And here it was. Gliding down from one of the trees, a dragon made of sugar. She couldn’t help but smile, because it was a dragon. Maybe she’d underestimated Valyn and romance after all. She flushed some, and she did feel like a silly little girl. Because she was just a muck-up, temperamental halfblooded orphan, and here she was accepting engagement from one of the most powerful - and kind natured - Elven Lords on the Council. The teenage girl in her couldn’t help but be giddy.
The sugar dragon was offering a ring. She took it, smiling some to see the motif of phoenixes and dragons combined.
“Ah, I know the dragon is technically Lord Berenel’s symbol, but he announced last Council session he’ll be changing it.” Valyn was watching her with a strange look she couldn’t quite place. He seemed to change his moods like lightening these days, as though he couldn’t quite place how he felt about marrying her. But she slipped the ring on her finger and looked down at her lap, feeling strange and giddy and light, even though she’d had no wine.
“You’re supposed to eat the dragon,” Valyn reminded her, gently.
“It’s too pretty to eat.” Shana glanced up. “So… is that it?”
“Well, I’ve written up the alliance contract. I suppose Parth Agon would be the one to sign it. And I’ve signed it as well, it will be sent off this evening.”
“Do I sign it?”
“It’s…not necessary.” Valyn sighed. “You know how my people view women, Shana.”
“They better not view me like that.”
“If they do, it’s a mistake they won’t make again, I’m sure. But yes, that’s more or less ‘it’.”
“When’s the wedding?”
“Well, you’ll have to make your tour of various estates…. Visits usually last a week or so, so I’d say we have a few months. I’ll handle the preparations and you’ll be told what you need to know beforehand. It’s really all a boring affair.”
“And I’ll have to dress like a giant cake the whole time?”
“Ah, well, I’m sure we can find you something less…less….” he waved his hand at her, flushing some. “Something less. Ah, less extravagant, of course. Not less…fabric.”
Oh. Men and breasts… were they all so obsessed? Shana folded her arms over her chest, glaring off into the trees.
“There’s plenty lying around. I’ll speak to Delia about it, she’s more than qualified to help you. Now… I hate to rush off, but I have to look over the trade reports from Whitegates that came in today. There’s a suite prepared for you, Delia will see that you’re well taken care of, Shadow’s about and will probably want to talk to you, and I’ll see you off tomorrow.” Valyn was already standing, a distracted look in his eyes. It was probably hard for him to have to deal with all of this so suddenly. But it was hard for her, too! And now he was brushing her off!
“Tomorrow? Everything starts so soon?”
“I want his done and recognized before someone can challenge it,” Valyn said. He cleared his throat and then took her hand, patting it once more. “You’ll be fine. I promise you that you aren’t going to have to deal with anyone I haven’t checked personally - you may not be exactly welcomed, but you won’t be made to feel an outcast, either. That would be a direct insult to me, and no one’s going to risk that right now.”
“Alright. I’ll… see you tomorrow, then.”
“And it’s only a few months. If anything happens, you know how to contact me. And Delia will be going with you. Ancestors, you could even take Keman, if he’s willing to pose as a handmaid. Now I really do have to see to those reports. Take care.” Valyn hesitated, and then lifted her hand to kiss the back of it hurriedly, before striding out of the room and leaving her standing alone in the magically created clearing, her hair beginning to slip loose from the moonstone comb and her skirts wrinkled. Everything was happening so fast….
At least for tonight she could get out of those stupid clothes.