[Dalemain - Ball] Time To Soar (Marcus)

Unbeknownst to Áine dressed as she was, she was stunning and beautiful, coming off as unearthly and something from ancient times, powerful and mysterious. This was the intent of Áine’s aunt, yet all that hard work was going very much unnoticed for Áine was hiding away near the walls watching the other guests. The longer Áine watched, the more she felt she was out of place, she had planned to spend this evening observing and learning. She needed to learn who would be able to help her with her plans. Yet, as time went on, the more lost she felt, was this really a good idea.

Even her family hadn’t seemed to have much faith in her being able to accomplish anything on her own and had sent the young witch to a matchmaker the other day. Áine was at first angered by the notion, but now she was beginning to doubt herself. This wouldn’t do at all she mentally kicked herself. This was not who she was, she was a Slytherin, this was only a bigger playing field but the rules still applied.

Catching her reflection in a dark window, Áine finally saw the magic spell the ball had cast upon her. She had seen herself in a mirror as her Aunt helped her to get ready, yet with the now seductive dim lighting she was unrecognizable. She could see the true image her Aunt had tried to create for her. The beautiful feathered mask played up her grey eyes, causing them look as they never did before. She looked darkly seductive.

With a deep breath to steady herself, she pulled away from the dark corner, she had been in and set the full glass of champagne down on tray, the glass had only been a decoy in hopes no one would approach her to ask her to dance. Yet she needed no such decoy now, she was ready to enter the playing field. Or so she kept telling herself the glance in the window had helped her regain some of the lost confidence. Yet she still hoped no-one would ask her to dance, that would wreck her whole image.

Áine had never had a dance instructor like most young Purebloods, it was one of the many things that set her apart from the true upper class. Yet she had picked up the basics and knew the dances fairly well not to embarrass herself. The problem lay in the fact that she lacked the grace that the other Purebloods had gained from practically practicing dancing since they had learned to walk.

Slowly she glided near the guy she had noticed had followed her into the ballroom, she couldn’t remember his name but as she was people watching he seemed nice enough, and someone who understood the workings of Society better than she did. Hopefully he would be her first ally in this game.


   

The ball was lovely. Marcus had, at first, felt a bit odd with his 'conquerer' mask, as he liked to call it, but he had soon realized that there were far stranger costumes than his. It hadn't taken the man long to get into the swing of things, and almost before he knew it, Marcus was dancing with a very pretty young woman. She danced very well, and when the dance was over, he was almost sad to see her move along. Almost. So he bowed, thanked her politely for the dance, and went to find a drink.

Luckily, there was a waitress nearby with a whole tray full of drinks. Marcus walked over, took a drink off the tray without paying too much attention to it, and muttered a 'thank you' to the server before wandering off again. Taking a sip as he stopped near a wall, Marcus looked around. Nearly everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves except . . . Some young thing in a corner? Now what was she doing over there all by herself? The man watched as the young girl emerged from the darkness of her corner. She was stunning. Her dress was stylish and fit extremely well. Marcus was certain that there was absolutely no possibility that she was older than twenty-one. Regardless, she was gorgeous.

Marcus observed as she walked past him. What was her family name again? Kent? Kerr? Ah, yes, that sounded right! Kerr. Young Miss Kerr seemed just a bit . . . lost, neither dancing nor really even socialising with anybody. Maybe she needed a dance partner, Marcus certainly did, for at least one song. Yes, he would ask her to dance. Turning around and walking to where she had stopped, he held out his hand. "Would you care to dance Miss Kerr? I'm Marcus Wentworth, and I couldn't help but notice that you were in need of a dance partner, quite surprising considering your appearance."

Áine felt the guys eyes on her as she purposely walked past him. Áine was use to stares because of something she said or how she act, yet never did someone look at her because of how she looked.  l It made her nervous, It almost made her want to check herself that there was nothing wrong. Áine mentally checked herself telling herself to calm down keep her facial and body language in check. As he approached her a smirk snuck into the corners of her lips it had actually worked, she would have to thank Isobel for that secret tip.  She turned and looked up at the guy. He appeared to be in his early thirties, and objectively speaking was kind of handsome, except for that mask. The mask was very dark and powerful looking almost intimidating. 

Áine smiled politely at him, though few would be able to tell this was not her true smile. Those she gave rare and sparse, this was instead was her well practiced and perfected political smile. It was carefully crafted to look approachable yet at the same time not carefree. There were hardly any teeth showing. She hesitated at his question though.

Áine hadn’t prepared herself for such a situation, she really should have and if she wasn’t so busy trying to think of how to move forward she would have been berating herself. She calculated all the variables, whether she should decline or accept, what would be the results of either and how well could she pass herself off. Wentworth, Wentworth where had she heard that name before, was it in one of the many talks of who's who she had, had from her grandmother? Grandmother Kerr was always speaking of all the Purebloods that might be of use to Áine. Finally, Kerr remembers that he was a ministry official and very much a Pureblood.

The situation was now right awful, how was she to refuse without giving offense. She was really beginning to feel unwelcome and out of place, that sliver of confidence was slipping. Only a few seconds had passed in all that time, luckily for her not enough to to give worry over. She smiled at him, and spoke, “I am Áine Kerr of the Kavanagh family, it is pleasant to meet you Mr. Wentworth”. Her tone was formal, but at the same time cordial. Áine was used to calling only her closest friends or acquaintances by first name. “I am afraid I am not too fond of dancing, it seems too few know how to not tread on feet”. There was a safe reply, one that wouldn’t lead to her admitting her lack of ability, but one that would at the same time politely get her out of it. Or so she hoped.  His compliment hadn’t gone unnoticed by Kerr, she was unused to such being said about her. Yet thankfully the mask hid most of her face and it was dim enough that he couldn’t see the blush that crept across her cheeks turning them red.
    “I believe I read about you in the paper not that long ago, you were were  being promoted to head of broom regulation. How fascinating please tell me about it do ever get some really interesting brooms in there?” I am quite fond racing brooms what about you?” Áine hoped that turning the conversation away from her lack of dance partner and instead onto the slightly older gentleman would be enough of a distraction. She made each remark conversationally and still in her formal tone, sounding far from flippant or fangirl. Brooms were very much a safe subject and one she would actually enjoy as long as quidditch wasn’t mentioned seriously what did people see in that sport.  Áine would prefer to watch a good obstacle course race on broom over quidditch any day.

Ah, so her family name was Kerr. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Kerr." He nodded, pleased that he had actually remembered her name. When she declined his offer to dance, Marcus cocked an eyebrow, though she couldn't see it through the mask. "Ah, yes, perfectly understandable." He said, surprise evident in his voice. Marcus recovered quickly however, and added, "Not all of us are skilled in the art of dancing." Privately he wondered who the awful partner she had danced with in the past was that would turn her away from the activity.

The subject was changed abruptly, and Marcus wondered if Miss Kerr was trying to avoid the topic of dancing. However, he was rather curious at the fact that she actually remembered the announcement of his promotion. It was surprising really, as it had been months since the article was produced. "Yes, that would be correct." He began slowly, then continued rather enthusiastically, "We get all sorts, leaden ones that very rarely allow themselves to be lifted from the ground, brooms that have all manner of curses placed onto them, and I even inspected one once that crumbled to dust as soon as I set it down. As for racing brooms, I find them quite enjoyable, the faster the better, as long as one is careful not to harm oneself."

Marcus felt that he had told a sufficient amount about himself and work for the time being and decided to turn the conversation back to Miss Kerr. "So what do you do for a living?" He inquired, "If you don't mind me asking of course." Surely she didn't sit around at her home all day, she had to do something.

   


When Áine heard the surprise tone in Marcus’s words, she was taken her back a little bit. She was confused and wondered had she done something wrong? Would it have been better to have accepted? No she decided, she had done what she had to, although this was slightly disheartening to her.  Áine had been lying when she had said she didn’t like to dance. In truth she really didn’t mind dancing in the least no matter how bad the partner was. As Marcus continued, Áine wondered if the guy  was admitting to not being that good of a dancer.    
   Áine had not meant to change the subject so abruptly but she hadn’t known of a better way to get away from the matter of dancing. Thankfully Marcus had caught onto the subject change. Yet once again it seemed she was shocking him,  her remembrance of such a small detail in the newspaper would definitely come of seeming weird and might seem stalkerish.She could tell that Marcus had been caught off guard by it, even his body language spoke of his curiosity. She could not tell him that the only reason that she remember the article was because an off color joke that she had heard the other day, the joke was just too rude.
   It was with relief that the conversation drifted towards his work and not into how she could remember such trivial details. The conversation was quite entertaining and Áine was itching to learn some of the curses that Marcus came across like the curse on the broom that made it turn to dust. Did that only work if someone touched broom other than the owner. That would be awesome as a security feature. As he told her about his opinion on brooms and racing brooms, Áine had to laugh at his remark. “Yet one can not be too careful, or else they lose the thrill of the speed, maybe sometime we could have a race”.
   As the waltz ended and turned into another song, it was unnoticed by Áine, she had been asked about what she did for a living and this was another topic she loved to speak on. The mood and conversation were light as she told him about her job and how she use to work for the ministry, she spoke of her travels. Again the songs changed unnoticed by her. Áine spoke animatedly and passionately her words flowing freely, her smile changing to a real one as Marcus asked questions and responded to her talking.
   The thing that finally caught her attention to her surroundings other than talking to Marcus was when the music changed to resemble her favorite waltz it couldn't be That couldn’t be the the waltz from Swan Lake by Tchaikovsky, he was a muggle wasn’t he. “Oh no I have taken up so much of your time, I am sure that you would rather go find someone else to dance with for this lovely waltz, It is very beautiful”.

"Of course," he replied in response to her comment about not being too careful "and we wouldn't want that, would we?" Hmm, a broom race? That would be interesting. "Yes, that would be quite fun, perhaps we shall have to arrange such an activity." If, he thought, you would like to be beaten. Marcus was completely confident in his flying abilities. Just as long as he had a decent broom, he could most likely win.

Ah, so she too had worked for the Ministry, an now she was training to be a healer. An interesting career change, if not an odd one, but he figured that if that was what Ms. Kerr was satisfied with, then it wasn't any of his concern. He continued speaking to her for quite a while until she mentioned the current song. It was a very nice waltz, even i it was composed by a muggle. "It is fine, Miss Kerr, I have had a very pleasant time speaking with you. Though, if you will excuse me, I think I will go dance." Marcus bowed his head to Ms. Kerr and walked into the ballroom. Ah, there was a lovely looking lady, he would ask her, before the waltz was over.