Full of Grace

The next few weeks passed in an awkward silence for Penelo. Lady Ashe left, Larsa was withdrawn with unavailable with the threat of the Loyalists and the servants busied themselves with preparations for the ball. When the time finally came, Penelo was completely unprepared. When Luice laid out the package she'd given Penelo the first day she'd arrived, Penelo paused.
"What's going on, Luice?"
"The Ball, miss Penelo. Surely you knew it was this evening?"
"I-I'd forgotten it was tonight... I don't know that I'll be going."
After all the days since she'd over heard the conversation between Basch and Larsa, Penelo still found herself angry at the two men and had little desire to see either. Going to the ball would ensure her that they would cross paths at least once and she did not know if she could handle the encounter.
"What do you mean, Miss? You have to! Lord Larsa expects it!"
"Expects it, does he?" Penelo hissed, an unfarmilair anger rising in her chest.
"Miss, please. You do not have to stay if it upsets you, but please make an appearance. The young lord... The dress..."
Guilt filled Penelo. Larsa had spent a great deal on her, she may as well go, if only for a little while....
"Fine, but no more than an hour," she grumbled, lifting up the parcel curiously.
"Let me, Miss," Luice said, carefully tearing the wrapping to reveal the garment beneath.
At the sight of it, Penelo felt her breath catch. It was a silver so pure Penelo thought it glowed in just the right light. the sleeves were tight, coming to a point at the back of the hand. The cut of it was almost like a corset with the laces having tiny diamonds sewn into them. The back ruffled out in layers of silk and the detail paid to the embroidered flowers was astounding, leaving both Penelo and Luice at a loss for words.
"Now you have to go. If only to have a reason to wear this..." Luice murmured, running her fingers over the gown lightly.
"Yeah..." Penelo agreed. suddenly eager to prepare.
She bathed the fastest that she ever had. drying herself as Luice carefully brushed and curled her long golden locks. Penelo fought to stay still as the older woman wove glittering beads into her hair and painted her lips a soft rose pink. She gave Penelo's cheeks a slight blush to them and meticulously painted her eyelids the same white silver as the dress. Finally, she helped the the smaller woman into the gown, lacing it tightly.
Looking in the mirror, Penelo hardly recognized herself. She looked so small and fair, not at all like she usually did.
"Miss..."
"I know..." Penelo whispered, still staring herself.
"As much as I would like to stay and admire you, the ball has started," Luice said, eyes still on the healer, a look of wonderment in them.
"It has?"
"Yes. Shall I escort you there?"
"If it's not a bother..."
"Not at all," Luice insisted. "Besides, I want to see the look on the young Masters face when he sees you."
As the two women walked, Penelo couldn't help but notice the looks the guards gave her as they passed. One of the younger ones actually stumbled in his tracks as he stared, mouth slack. Penelo blushed, turning to look at Luice who smiled.
"Here we are, Miss," she said, indicating a grand archway behind which unearthly music played.
"Now," Luice said, adjusting a curl behinf Penelo's ear. "Off you go. I'll be watching from the servants entry."
"Thank you," the blond whispered back, taking a breath and turning.
The guard at the door opened it wide for her, eyeing her as she entered.
The first thing she was all the beautiful ladies and the handsome men dancing, their laughter and merriment filling her ears. She waited for a moment, scanning the room for Larsa. When a man approached her, she turned slightly.
"Lady Penelo, do you remember me??" he asked, a lopsided smile on his face. "I was with you on the airship the day you arrived."
"Oh, hello...."
"Wren," he said, still smiling. "Forgive me, are you looking for the Emperor?"
"Yes, I haven't seen him yet," she explained, glancing around.
"Shall I take you to him?" Wren asked, extending a hand.
"If you don't mind," she replied timidly.
"Not at all. Just be sure to save me a dance, will you?"
"Of course," she replied, smiling at the handsome youth.
When she slipped her arm in his, he smiled down at her. carefully he led her though the crowd to where Larsa stood, Basch at his side, several ladies spread around him eager to soak up any attention he would give them. Basch saw her first and raised his eyebrows. Larsa turned, following his trusted guards gaze. When he saw Penelo, he stared openly. To Penelo's embarrassment, so did she. Larsa was dressed in a gold vest, his slacks the same gold, his shirt that billowed under the vest the same silver as her gown. The long ebony hair that Penelo knew to be as soft as the silk she wore was pulled back loosely by a silver ribbon. They stared at one another for several long moments before Larsa's gaze fell to Penelo's arm in Wren's.
"My Lord, may I present the Lady Penelo," Wren said, bowing deeply.
"Penelo..." Larsa whispered, extending his hand. "It is an honor to see you tonight."
"It is an honor to be here, My Lord," she replied, placing her hand in his gloved one.
Penelo froze when Larsa raised it, lowering his mouth to kiss the skin on the back of her hand lightly. His lips barely brushed her but she felt a shiver run through her as he hovered just above the sensitive flesh. When he raised his face from her, Penelo noticed not only the ladies staring, but Basch as well. Attempting to ignore them, she turned her attention back to Larsa.
"Would you do me the kindness of sharing a dance with me?" he asked, just as eager as she to escape Basch's eyes.
"Of course, My Lord," she whispered.
"Ladies, if you'll excuse us," he murmured.
Gently, he led the small blond onto the crowded dance floor. The people around them parted to give them room while still being as close as they could.
"Don't be nervous," Larsa whispered, placing a hand on her waist, intertwining the other in hers.
"Who said I was nervous?" she demanded under her breath as the music started.
"I know you, Penelo," he started.
"Not as well as you think, My Lord," she countered, moving in time with his experienced steps.
"What's gotten into you?" he asked, pulling her close for a spin. "Why do you call me 'My Lord'? You never have in the past."
"I was a child back then as were you. I know now that past informalities are no longer appropriate," she hissed.
Larsa's grip around her waist tightened as he pulled her even closer.
"You did hear what Basch and I discussed, didn't you?" he demanded, eyes darkening with anger.
"And what would you have done if I'd told you?" she shot back, her own face pinched in anger.
"What I should have done ages ago," he snarled, lowering his face dangerously close to hers.
"Larsa, please," she begged, softening. "Do not. I could not bear it..."
Slowly he pulled away, his lips coming to rest on her hair.
"Forgive me, Penelo. I forget myself."
The music faded and Penelo turned to see almost every pair of eye sin the room focused on the two of them. Slowly Larsa released her, raising her hand to his mouth, kissing it once again.
"Thank you for the dance, Penelo."
"It was my pleasure, My Lord," she whispered, fighting back tears of frustration.
Larsa stepped back, turning to Basch and the other ladies. Penelo too turned and moved away to the back of the room to collect her thoughts. Once she was somewhat alone, she closed her eyes feeling exhausted. She jumped with a start when a hand closed on her shoulder.
"Wren!" she gasped, clutching her chest.
"Lady Penelo, did I frighten you?" he asked, grinning.
"Only a little," she confessed. "I wasn't expecting you."
"I do remember you promising me a dance," he said, offering her his hand.
"Oh yes," she murmured, taking it.
As he led her out, Penelo glanced at Larsa who was deeply emersed in conversation with one of the other ladies. Feeling slightly vexed, she turned back to Wren, determined to enjoy herself. As they danced, Penelo found herself looking up into the young man's face. He was handsome and certainly more obtainable than Larsa. When he pulled her close, Penelo caught her breath.
"That was quite a display out there," he murmured, breath tickling her ear.
"I don't know what you mean," she whispered, trying to get a look at him.
"You and the 'Young Lord'," he hissed, tightening his hold on her almost painfully.
"Wren," she gasped. "What...?"
"Don't say anything. Just keep dancing," he murmured, pressign a small blade that had been concealed in his sleeve against the small of her back.
Penelo winced, trying to pull away but stopping when she felt the pressure of the blade press against her harder.
"What did I just say?" he growled, squeezing her hand until she gasped in pain.
"Smile and move with me," he ordered, a false smile already on his face.
"What are you doing?" she asked, glacing around.
"Stop that," he said. "Look only at me. Good girl. Now, move."
Slowly but surely the two of them moved towards a darkened corner near the servants entrance.
"Why are you doing this?" Penelo asked, wincing when he pressed the blade against her spine harder.
"Why? Why the murderer asks me," he laughed softly. "You killed my Lord Vayne. You and that traitor of his own blood."
"Vayne was insane..."
"Silence. Do not speak of him. You foolish girl, you know nothing!"
"Wren, do not do this," Penelo said even as they moved closer to the darkness.
"I think killing you will be especially sweet, dear Penelo. Revenge for My Lord and causing that little traitor pain..." Wren whispered, licking the shell of her ear.
Penelo fought not to recoil from the touch while looking for help. Seeing none, Penelo forced herself to be calm.
"Don't worry, lovely Penelo. Soon you'll be with your friends. That sky pirate and his Viera bitch fought valiantly but their blood flows as red as any.
"You lie," Penelo hissed, turning red with anger and fear.
"I'm afraid not," he whispered, forcing her fully into shadow. "Now, be still. I promise it won't hurt."
The blade that had been pressing into her spine moved to her throat and Penelo felt hot tears building in her eyes.
"Please don't..." she whispered even as she felt her power building. Last time she had been helpless. She'd let her fear and the drink overwhelm her. Not this time.
"Now now, none of that," he soothed, pressing the blade harder against her neck as he wiped away a tear that rolled from her eye. "Try any magic and I'll end you here and now."
"That's what you're planning anyway, isn't it?" she snarled, still building her power. If she was to die, it would not be like a dog.
Sensing her growing magic, the assassin lashed out out, slicing her from mid neck to shoulder as she turned to force him off. With a scream of pain, Penelo placed her hands on his face, burning at the flesh with Holy Light. His scream joined hers and he slashed again, catching her across the chest. As suddenly as it started, his scream was cut short, blood bubbling from his mouth, eyes rolling back in his head.
Had she done that? The small blond fell to her knees, weak from pain and blood loss. The wound on her neck flowed freely and she barely registered the painj of the arms that caught her, pulling her close. Lips found hers in a frenzy and she slowly looked up into the face of the person who held her.
Dark hair framed them both having spilled form from the ribbon that held it. back. the gold of Larsa's vest almost blinding compared to the darkness around her, his gloved hands stained with her blood as he pressed them against the wounds. Even as he tried to stop the bleeding, he contuied his gentle kisses, covering her face and lips.
"Penelo, Penelo.... Do not leave me..." he whispered, eyes heavy with tears.
Slowed by pain, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, letting loose her healing powers. They flowed though her, mending her wounds and comforting both of them.
"Larsa," she whispered, kissing away a tear. "Larsa, I am fine. How did you...?"
"You think I would not notice you with another man?"
Penelo laughed softly before rolling her head to the side, trembling.
"I thought I had lost you for sure," Larsa cried softly, cradling her by the neck. "Penelo, my Penelo, do not act so foolishly! Why did you not call out for help?" he said angrily, kissing her hair roughly.
"I was afraid there were more, that they would kill you if I cried out," she explained, feeling queazy from the blood loss.
"Silly girl,: he replied, kissing her face. "I'm surrounded by guards at all times, you couldn't have forgotten..."
"My Lord!" shouted Basch, stepping over the body to pull his Emperor to his feet. "Penelo, are you injured?"
"Not I," replied Larsa as two more heavily armed men helped Penelo to stand. "Penelo had been attacked."
"Miss, are you injured?" asked one of the men holding her, eyes locked on the blood that covered her.
"No... I've healed it," she whispered, sagging.
"Miss, you should let the palace healer take a look at you."
"I agree," said Basch, looking around at the guests who'd gathered around to see what the comotion was.
"The dress..." Penelo murmured. "I've ruined the dress..."
"Do not fret," Larsa said, touching her arm. "It is not any fault of yours."
"Fran.... He said that Balthier and Fran... he said they are dead."