Merrion watched what transpired between Ari and the smith, Aspel, with awkward and yet rapt attention for some time. The dance was a peculiar yet somehow wonderful thing to watch, and with Aspel kissing the back of Ari's hand, his curiosity flared with a desperation he didn't know he possessed. When Aspel left her, Merrion tried to see if he could talk to her about -- well, he was hoping to ask her about Aspel, really, but he knew that it wouldn't come out that way. He'd had a glass of wine already, and words were less his friend tipsy than when he was sober. But Ari waved him away before he could even try, and he returned to his seat with the others, silent and finding himself more and more lost in his thoughts.
They were unusually disorganized, and as usual, very fast. He took another glass of wine, hoping to at least stop the thoughts from coming, but to no avail. He remembered the previous night, for even as he shopped for Ari's birthday present all afternoon, the images, the feelings, the emotions kept rushing back to him, and he couldn't make sense of it then nor could he make sense of it now. But why was he thinking about it now?
He glanced up from his glass and watched as Ari and Aspel retook the dance floor, and slowly, the thoughts began clearing away into one loud truth through his haze. The truth rang clear in his head he saw them kissing, and his mouth fell open. His hand came to his mouth to hide his astonishment, and then once more, his thoughts flew to the captain and...
"Oh," he murmured. "I..."
He didn't finish the sentence out loud, but in his head, the words gave him more clarity than anything else, and it was a fortunate thing that he was already sitting. He gulped, his grip on the stem of the wine glass tight as he trembled. Then Wil entered, and it was with his smiling face that everything fell into place.
"Oh," he said again, and his widened eyes fell to the table.