Re: Wandering: Hannah/Fiach
He chose not to answer, not right away. Seeing through veils--gauze, it was possible, all was possible, but everything in this world and worlds surrounding it came with a price. For right now he didn't want to speak of prices and layers, a treacherous brother who left him for dead, the death that surrounded him. No, he wanted to dance. Dancing was something even the most horrid, twisted, distorted of his people could find solace in, some times at the cost of lives. Some danced forever.
Yet, luckily for Hannah, he remembered the one in his arms wasn't one of his people.
They had gone faster and faster it was true, the music in his head was as loud as the laughter they found themselves lost in. Perhaps he could see people in the crowd, perhaps the music was really there, the strings driving higher and higher with each motion. And then just as swiftly that music stopped, and he stopped, not winded per-say but breathing steadily as the nameless, dreaming lady in his grasp caught her wind and laughter together. His hands kept her solid by the elbows in case she swooned, not likely, but still best to be safe should it be so.
He was beaming. "A sight indeed," he released her, politely bowing as he did when they first met. There was no flush on his cheeks, but he breathed in deeply. Satisfied. "Thank you for the dance, my lady." No prying for a name that didn't want to be given. If introductions had been proper, she would have offered hers up immediately, at least that was his perception.
"Only one of my brothers is living, the others, along with my father, they are dead." He admitted, there was a flash of fury in his dark eyes, swift as gleam on glass and then just as quickly gone. "So yes, it does bother me." He smiled then. "In many ways, I am dead too. It is best if he believes it, anyway."