[ P ] tactical retreat

The air was ripe with the perfumed smells of wolves from all different walks of life, the cloying scent of alcohol and smoked meats. While a more social man might be dazzled by the glamour and charmed by the fashioned masks donning the faces of strangers, Argent was weary of it. The bright colours and flowery scents were enough to give him a headache. His own face was bare of any accessories other than the natural grey fur that masked his snowy features. He later came to regret his decision not to blend in when the absence of a face covering lured nosy guests to pester him on why he was not taking part in the festivities. None of your concern became not interested which slowly formed into a silent scowl warning them away. A few huffy ladies called him rude and griped about his bad manners. So be it. he thought, at least they would leave him alone now.

Argent had hoped he would find peace by hanging out in an alcove, back pressed against the stone wall as he observed the merriment of other guests. He let out a gruff sigh, dark ears pressed flat against his skull. He was ready for the night to come to a close so he could return home, but he doubted it would end without some sort of bother. It was why he came, to show his support for King Adamh and be an extra pair of paws to assist with security.

His brow arched when he saw a familiar figure being harried by a flock of ladies. He didn’t know if the Colonel was uncomfortable with the attention, but decided to offer him a way out just in case. Colonel! Do you have a minute? he called out, internally cringing at the prospect of bringing attention to himself. He forced a smile, even as the ladies glared at him for daring to interrupt them.

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"Colonel! Do you have a minute?" The familiar voice rose above the crowd, piercing through the feminine tittering and asinine conversation inherent of his current Hell. Kvothe's attention snapped up to lock eyes with none other than former-Captain Argent - who looked about as uncomfortable as Kvothe felt. The Colonel's eyes widened, immediately seizing upon the opportunity the other male had created. “Sir Argent!" he returned - and if the edge of each word was just a tad too sharp, bitten off at the border of tolerance and torture...well, perhaps his tone could be attributed to the volume of the music. A few of the women around him let out a cry of dismay as he extricated himself from the fray. Kvothe made stiff, polite noises and ducked out of the circle, sweeping stiffly across the floor to stand promptly beside the monochrome male. Side by side, they made an interesting picture. The Captain was thick and muscular and plush of fur, while Kvothe sported a leaner, more courtly appearance. The bold colors that highlighted the Colonel's features were absent on the former soldier, who had also eschewed a mask for this evening's gathering. The scowl on the other's broad features had likely been enough to ward off the court vultures, who picked and prodded at any vernal victim. Kvothe could navigate the wastelands well enough, but he had never actively enjoyed it. The Colonel peered out from behind his bauta of burnished gold, dipping his head close to murmur in Argent's ear. Turned away from the gaggle of females he had just recently abandoned, he did not see - but he could certainly feel - their venomous eyes on his and Argent's backs. “You are my favorite former soldier in all the lands," he offered lowly, keeping his voice from carrying over the throng. “I feared there would be nothing left of me by the time they had their fill," he elaborated, a rare flash of distaste marring the clean-cut lines of his handsome muzzle.

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His voice carried over the music and chattering of the crowd, inviting stares and unwanted attention. It was uncomfortable. Argent preferred to be part of the background, not the centre of attention. It was pushed aside without a second thought, disregarding his own discomfort in the moment to help out a friend. Grey eyes locked with the unique gaze of the Colonel who immediately took this as an opportunity to make a polite exit. "Sir Argent!" The former captain's ears twitched at his name, picking up on the strain in his voice. Argent didn't envy him. Everyone vied for his attention and manners forced him to pretend he was happy to engage them. As a commoner Argent didn't have those worries. Duty didn't require him to make nice with everyone. Nor was he under constant scrutiny like the Colonel was.

The Colonel joined him beneath the alcove, and leaned close to whisper in his ear. “You are my favorite former soldier in all the lands." Surprise widened his gaze, but he let out a light laugh. It was a nice sentiment, even if he was the only former soldier that the Colonel knew personally. That bad, eh? he asked, brow wrinkling in concern. He hadn't been able to hear what they'd been talking about, but guessed it was the sort of conversation that would put his brain to sleep. “I feared there would be nothing left of me by the time they had their fill." The Colonel continued, letting his cordial mask slip for just a brief moment. If you want to hang out here for a bit they probably won't bother you. I'm quite good at keeping away unwanted company, he suggested, having no qualms about sharing his space with the Colonel. Argent played the part of Gargoyle quite well. One sharp look from him sent the spectators scurrying.

Bloody nosy sods, he grumbled, shaking his fluffy white head. He didn't know why they thought the Colonel's business concerned them in the first place.

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Kvothe grimaced as Argent ushered him into the relative shelter of his presence. 'If you want to hang out here for a bit they probably won't bother you. I'm quite good at keeping away unwanted company,' Argent offered. Kvothe snorted, a quick laugh huffing from his maw as the former soldier proceeded to do just that. The Colonel relaxed his head and shoulders in the next breath, at ease now that there was a small circle of space around him and the monochrome male. In this moment, he felt no shame in taking advantage of Argent's gruff mannerisms. Even a few minutes of relative peace was a certain victory against the desperate harpies of the court. "Thank you," he intoned sincerely. A pause, as he settled into a more comfortable stance, away from the prying, politic fingers of the court. “I used to enjoy these things," he murmured thoughtfully, his features set in a frown of dismay. He had been young, and desperate, and foolish then. Back when he'd been nothing more than a nameless, bloodless brat underfoot, any attention from the gentry had been better than none. He'd cut his teeth on the manners and mercurial whims of the nobility. Now that he had made Colonel, and legitimized besides, he'd learned to see the gilt and glitter for the false pageantry it really was. Necessary, in some ways, but not to his taste. But he'd been submerged in the muck and the mire for too long, and he had been dyed too dark by the Game to eschew it entirely. Still, he would take what reprieve he could. A thought occurred, and he pursued it, glad to think of something beyond his own selfish suffering. “What brings you here tonight, sir Argent? I wouldn't have imagined that you would come of your own volition," the Colonel asked, genuine puzzlement suffusing his tongue and tone. The undercurrent of circumstance - that Argent was no longer a member of the army, and therefore would not have been stationed to the ball on guard duty - was overshadowed by what Kvothe knew of the male personally. Argent had never struck him as a social butterfly, and his practiced glower seemed only to underline the point. He wondered what had drawn the former Captain to the ballroom, when invitations were so dear across the kingdom.

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Though he was stern in his features and gruff in his manner it was an instinctive reaction to discomfort and not anger. People naturally assumed he was unpleasant and for the most part he enjoyed being left alone. It was different for the Colonel, his name and his prestigious bloodline did not allow him to behave in a way that came natural to him when he was under so much scrutiny. Privacy meant nothing to the carnivorous vultures of the nobility waiting to descend upon their prey at any sign of weakness. Gossip was their currency as long as it was at someone else’s expense and at the moment the Colonel was their favourite flavour.

Growing up in Melrose he had met a few high born wolves and most of them ignored him. Some had treated him with disgust, apparently offended by his existence. He learned quickly to mind his own business and keep his own company. Entering the army broke down the barriers of class and he’d befriended wolves of all kinds of stations during his two and a half years of service.

The Colonel’s appreciation was accepted with a nod. I used to enjoy these things. Argent’s grey eyes met his heterochromatic gaze, reflecting understanding. You didn’t become like them, he remarked, meaning it as a sincere compliment even though it was gruffily spoken.

His ears twitched when the subject drifted to his own unlikely presence in these shark infested waters. I came to show support for the King. I might not serve in His Majesty’s Imperial Army anymore, sir, but I still consider myself one of his men. I volunteered to help with security, even if it’s just escorting rowdy drunks outside. It’s something, he explained, a proud smile softening the edges of his rough expression. Then it was gone, replaced by a more serious expression. It’s been a difficult adjustment, he grumbled, frown deepening slightly. He felt comfortable enough around the Colonel to admit that he wasn’t happily retired.

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'You didn't become like them,' Argent answered. The smile that sat on Kvothe's features soured into something almost...bittersweet. He knew that the other male had meant his words as a compliment - a reassurance that Kvothe had not descended into the depravity that was so inherent of the mob mindless nobles that milled around them. But...once, that had been the precise thing that Kvothe had wanted. He'd worked tirelessly to integrate himself into the court, to prove that he was just as worthy and valid, just as cultured and noble, as the rest trueborn gentry. He'd learned how to walk, how to talk, the dances, the graces, the mannerisms...for more than two years of his life, he'd worked to mold himself into the perfect courtier, just to prove that he was one of them. And he had proven that he was one of them. A handsome soldier, a chivalrous knight, a humble politician; Kvothe donned each mask with ease, having perfected each and every one in turn. He'd become the darling of the court. Even those who scrutinized his parentage, critical of his every flaw, rarely found fault with his conduct. He had worked so hard to build himself from nothing; he was exceedingly careful that the foundation did not crumble out from beneath him. Fortunately, he was older now, and wiser, no longer quite so dependent on the whims of others to assign value to his life - but sometimes the reminder of his youth, and the realities associated with his bastard blood, still stung. Even now, he was not wholly out from under the court's scrutiny. “Certainly not for lack of trying," he answered solemnly. He blinked, and the lingering sense of melancholy was banished from his expression. “Though it was a near thing," he grinned. He changed the subject, inquiring about Argent's motives in attending the gala. 'I came to show support for the King. I might not serve in His Majesty’s Imperial Army anymore, sir, but I still consider myself one of his men. I volunteered to help with security, even if it’s just escorting rowdy drunks outside. It’s something,' the monochrome male answered. Kvothe nodded, his expression sober. He could certainly understand that. Had he been in Argent's position, he likely would have done the same thing. 'It’s been a difficult adjustment,' the male admitted. Kvothe's attention sharpened, and sympathy illuminated the oceanic shadows of his bicolored gaze. He'd never learned the exact details of Argent's retirement, respecting the other male's privacy, but those words told him enough. “I can imagine," he nodded. “And I am certain your efforts are not in vain. Tonight, of all nights, we can use all the help we can get." Behind him, he heard a telltale feminine giggle, and he steeled himself - before stepping even closer to Argent, all but pressed between the other male and a nearby stone column. He wasn't....hiding, per say. It was a tactical retreat.

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Something about Argent’s words triggered discomfort within the Colonel. The ex-captain feared for a moment that he might have put his paw in his mouth, but the reality of it was deeper than a verbal misstep. It was a tender subject for the Immortalis heir and one that Argent could sympathize with, but never fully understand due to circumstances of birth. He nodded in understanding when he explained that he had made efforts to become like them. Wolves were a social people and if they couldn’t fit in with those who claimed them then where did they belong? Argent learned overtime that it wasn’t groups that mattered, but individuals. We all want to fit in somewhere, he agreed, having found that place in the army. Now he was floundering again, trying desperately to fit like a misshapen puzzle piece in a place that was once perfect. You can relax for a bit if you like. I don’t care if you’re all fancy or not, he stated, offering the Colonel a reassuring half smile. It was the honest truth. He regarded the man as a friend because of his character and not because of his status.

It pleased him to hear that the Colonel valued his contribution to the ball’s security. It was a small thing, but it was nice to feel needed again. It gave him hope that he might find an occupation that was as fulfilling as being a soldier was. He was also aware of the risk that came with allowing strangers into the castle so openly. If anything happened he wanted to be there to help however he could. We have to be vigilant, he agreed, straightening up a little with a determined expression.

A girlish giggle caused his ears to twitch and suddenly the Colonel had disappeared behind him. He cleared his throat to stifle a grunt of surprise and surreptitiously sidestepped to block the Colonel from the crowd’s view. Taking his sudden bodyguarding duties very seriously Argent glared at anyone who dared look their way, showing a bit of teeth to the more stubborn spectators wondering where the Colonel had vanished to.

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Understanding adorned Argent's shoulders like a burlap cape. Uncomfortable, understated - but functional and weighty enough to be flattering. The gentry would judge him for it, look down on its lack of pageantry - but it looked good on the former soldier, and Kvothe inclined his head in thanks. “Thank you," he offered quietly, repeating the words for the second time that night. 'Relaxing' was easier said than done, of course - he was all done up in his own finery, and the weight of the mask pressed heavily on the bridge of his nose. The scent and sound of all the wolves gathered in one space was enough to add its own sort of pressure, and Kvothe's own formal nature forbade the sort of casual dismissal that might have spared him from the responsibilities inherent of his position. Indeed, if Orestes knew that he was actively avoiding the social obligations of his rank, Kvothe would have been raked over the coals in more ways than one. Still, now that Argent stood between him and the gathering at large, the Colonel allowed some of the tension to bleed from his bones. It had been a long time since he'd had a friend - or anyone to confide in, really - but he felt the stirrings of such a bond the more time he spent with the former soldier. The male was personable, dedicated, loyal, dutiful - everything that Kvothe prized in his own soldiers. It was a shame that Argent had been discharged from the army proper - though truthfully, the Colonel was beginning to view that fact as something of a blessing in disguise. The king's men were certainly poorer for Argent's absence, but it also meant that the other male was firmly outside of the chain of command. It left him free to fill a more informal role in the world at large. He nodded in agreement when the male impressed that they had to remain vigilant - though he was certainly doing a bad job of keeping guard himself, when he was so busy hiding from all the court peacocks determined to draw him into their circles of depravity. “Yes. The ball is a pretty political gesture, but it's also an open invitation to anyone who might have designs on the King's life," he noted. Witchcraft eyes scanned over the milling throng, as if he might be able to pick out the rebels by sight. “I pray otherwise, but -" he started, only to fall silent and dive behind the pillar when a giggling female pressed closer. He blew out a breath of relief when Argent sidestepped to block him from sight - and then almost ruined the effort by coughing to hide a soft bark of amusement. Fortunately, the young woman he'd been desperate to avoid only skittered away when Argent trained a practiced glare in her direction. “If you were mine, I'd give you a raise," Kvothe muttered lowly, a laugh lingering in the lines of his handsome features. He straightened, adjusting his mask as he did so. “You'd think they would have lost interest by now," he mused out loud - and then shook his head. “Unfortunately, I don't think I can linger long. I'm due a dance with my fiancée." A glance towards Argent reaffirmed his interest. “What of you, ser Argent? Any plans once the Ball has ended?"

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The Colonel’s appreciation was met with an awkward duck of his head and casual roll of his shoulders in a shrug that silently suggested it was no big deal. Understanding was a small thing to Argent and one that he happily gave without expecting anything in return. Despite the fact that the Colonel was surrounded by people vying for his attention and approval, Argent suspected that he rarely had the time to enjoy a conversation that didn’t come with expectations. Just as they avoided Argent because of his gruff demeanour they flocked to the Colonel for his natural charm like flies around honey. The former captain was the perfect antisocial shield, none of the ladies dared approach the men. Normally he might have felt a little bad for scaring anyone, but they were a persistent bunch of harpies that needed to mind their own business.

His frown deepened when the Colonel confirmed his own suspicions. The ball was the perfect place to launch an attack upon the king or queen. The royal couple had a long list of enemies that might take advantage of their kindness and use the open door policy to get close to them. Argent could only hope that should that be the case that such attempts would be thwarted swiftly by the royal knights and imperial army. I fear the same, he admitted in a low grumble, obviously concerned about the king’s wellbeing. He would do what he could to assist if trouble broke out, but he knew he would have to step aside and let the soldiers do their duty if violence broke out. The Colonel’s voice suddenly broke off when he ducked behind a pillar to avoid a giggling lady. She was no match for Argent’s scowl and soon hurried off to either complain about him or find another victim to peck at. Maybe he would get chewed out later for glaring at the guests, but it was a small price to pay for his friend’s privacy.

A grin softened the hard edges of his stern features when the Colonel spoke. Free of charge for you. Friend’s discount, he told him, not admitting that he was enjoying scaring them away. It made for a fun game to play while he was on the clock. I’ll be here for the rest of the night, he informed the Colonel, a subtle offer to play the part of menacing bodyguard should he require one once more.

The mention of a fiancee was an unexpected development, but one that he was happy to learn about. Better not keep her waiting then, he answered, idly wondering who she might be and making a mental note to ask about her the next time they met. Ah. No plans. But.. you don’t have to call me, Argent. Luciel is fine, he muttered, a little self conscious about entrusting the Colonel with his first name.

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His heart warmed as he and Argent fell into the comfortable strains of banter, the sensation of comradery and equal fellowship one that Kvothe had thought long forgotten. Kohl had been Kvothe's dearest friend for years, and the hole he had left when he'd died had all but festered, unfulfilled. Argent, however, was readily easing into the cracks, settling like quicksilver into the empty spaces in Kvothe's heart. The male possessed a dry sort of humor that meshed well with Kvothe's, and was both polite and personable enough - to everyone but the tittering nobility - to match the Colonel's chivalrous demeanor. For all that they had really only become acquaintances relatively recently, Kvothe was comfortable with Argent in a way that he was not with most others. Perhaps that went without saying, given their current position. Kvothe would not have hidden behind one of his men, nor even Nassar, or one of her kin. His relationship with Argent was well and truly unique. 'Free of charge for you. Friend’s discount,' the monochrome male noted. Kvothe huffed in amusement. 'I’ll be here for the rest of the night,' Argent continued. The Colonel nodded, relieved for more reasons than one. "Good. I'll use you as home base," he joked. A rueful look crossed his face as something beyond the white field of Argent's fur caught his eye. "And at the very least, I'm glad that the King can be assured of at least one vigilant guardsman tonight. I think that recruit over there has left all of his good sense at the champagne table," he murmured darkly, eyeing the swaying, glassy-eyed youngster sporting the army's colors. He'd have to have a word with him in short order; it would reflect badly on the military to have one of their own passed out drunk in the middle of the dancefloor. They stood on the periphery a while more, Kvothe yet shielded by the sheer bulk of Argent's body. Eventually, however, Kvothe reminded himself of his duty, and of the imminent arrival of his fiance. 'Better not keep her waiting then,' the other male offered. Kvothe hummed in muted agreement, even as Argent answered in the negative as to his lack of plans for the rest of the night. The other male then offered Kvothe an interesting kernel of information, an overture of personal connection. A flash of surprise widened kaleidoscopic eyes, granted the knowledge and use of the other male's first name. "Luciel..." He tested the new syllables, curling them around his courtier's tongue. He grinned. "It suits you." He dipped his head, watching noble and commoner flit across the dancefloor for a moment more - before he sighed. In the next instant, he stepped resolutely out of the bulkier male's shadow. Shockingly enough, he was not swarmed immediately, and he took the moment to ensure his make and mask were all in order. "Best of luck tonight, my friend," he offered. "Let me know if there's ever an occasion to return the favor." [Exit Kvothe]

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