Not long after Lucas's entrance, Merlin arrives at the top of the Grand Hall's stairs.
            Merlin is dressed in brown, with white showing through in his slashed sleeves and as an accent in his accessories. His cape is layers of brown and white, creating the illusion of feathered wings, and his half-mask is a hawk's head with a curved beak. He is not (visibly, anyway) armed.
            Merlin is flanked by a pair of Asian dragons, one red, one green. Both wear half masks, covered in beading and silk that coordinate perfectly with their complimentary dresses and simple Asian style slippers on their feet.
            The head of the emerald dragon, curls over one woman's shoulder. It is accented with rubies and scarlet trim. Red flames, likely the masqued woman's hair, spill from the dragon's mouth. The tail of the dress wraps languidly around it's wearer's body coming to rest at it's wearer's feet. Both head and tail curves towards the other woman.
            The red dragon's head curls at it's wearer's feet. The emerald of it's eye sparkling as her lithe legs stride with purpose into the hall. Again the body of the dragon wraps around the body with the tail coming up behind the woman's right shoulder towards the green's fiery maw. Keen observers might note the rigidness in the spine of the dragon's tail. To finish off the look, the wearer's dark hair has been slicked back into a simple ponytail.
            Paige, beneath the green laughs gently to herself as she spots Conner's costume, and then turns and whispers to the red. "Lilly, it seems our motif has already been claimed by Jerod, if I don't mistake him."
            Indeed, when the women stand side by side they would make a stylized Yin Yang. Paige's Yang to Lilly's Ying, fiery passion and cool prudence.

"Indeed." Lilly says cooly. "Like most men though he seems convinced he can do and be everything. Proving once more that we are indeed the more intelligent sex." Paige has spent enough time around her cousin to know that she is indeed joking despite the neutrality of her features.

"Well, the belief does hold that every creature is composed of both light and darkness," the Yang says.
            Scanning the room, she spots her eldest uncle and takes Merlin's arm in a reassuring gesture. "Lilly, perhaps we should greet you father before making the rounds?"

"Merlin, will you join us?" the emerald dragon asks.

Merlin's eyes widen and he turns his head to meet the emerald dragon's gaze. "Are you sure that is wise?" he asks, hesitantly.

Paige slips her arm through his, her smile encouraging Lilly to do the same as she starts toward the staff wielding Elder. "Yes, Master Hawk. With age comes wisdom, so I'd venture Uncle Benedict is the wisest among us."

Lilly was missing something. She had to be. The answer Paige had given did not seem to match the question Merlin had asked, not in her head anyway. Rather then mention any of this however, she simply let loose a small "hmmm" and gave into Paige's wishes. Hopefully by following along she would learn all she wanted to know. Or at least she would be able to discern what she needed to ask.

Merlin, trapped, surrenders, but it's impossible for him to hide his trepidation from Paige. To Lilly, who knows him less well, he appears to accept Paige's insistence with good grace.
            In a moment, the trio reaches Lilly's father, who looks up as they join him. Benedict waits for his niece or his daughter to speak first.

Paige smiles, "Uncle, a wonderful costume. You're one of my favorite subjects, a Trump, no?"

Benedict looks blankly at Paige.  "Not quite.   Or only insofar as I am one.  I am supposed to be a hermit."

"Yes, exactly. The Hermit," Paige agrees. She smiles to Lilly to do  introductions and to see how Merlin's taking things.

Benedict smiles, and bows, slightly.  "Your efforts are quite remarkable.  And... Merlin.  Quite amusing."

"Paige has remarkable people in her employ. One evening she was struck with inspiration and several days later the costumes were a reality." Lilly smiles pleasantly and offers Paige a slight nod before moving onto the next subject.
            "So far things seem to have gone well enough. For that I am grateful. It had been my hope that the events surrounding the coronation would be remembered for the joy they brought to the city and little else. Once this evening is over I think I might actually take time to breath once again."

Benedict's smile has faded and he is back to his normal countenance.  "Of course.  But it is not enough to win a battle if what you wish to win is a war.  Or a peace."

Lilly nods in agreement. "Yes. I realize conflict can be almost unending.  That is why peace can be so difficult to maintain."
    
Merlin has not spoken, even in acknowledgement of Benedict's comment on his costume.

"You imply that the war didn't end in Chaos, Uncle?" Paige asks, taking Merlin's hand in his, hoping that she'll stir some response from him.
            She looks to Merlin, "How do you think they viewed the battle, Merlin."

Merlin shrugs. "It would be difficult for me to say. One of the characteristics of a Lord of Chaos is that he is mutable in thought and action as well as in form. I do not think my mother will forgive my father easily, though, and the ordered taint runs strong in her. She will be a fearsome opponent." He watches Benedict sidelong as he speaks.

Benedict looks at Paige.  "In my experience with Chaos, limited as it may be, it is important to recall that there is only a limited value to considering any collective 'they'."

"Duly noted," the emerald dragon says with a small nod and a smile that tells Merlin that she's happy he joined the conversation.
            "I'm hoping that we find our missing artifact, soon. I'm sure it would make things better for all concerned," Paige continues. "I'm sure Lilly's anxious to take a small walk and find her birthright." She watches Benedict for any reaction, expecting little.

She notes none.  Perhaps he is waiting to see Lilly's response.

"Anxious? No. That's not quite the right word. I feel such a walk would be beneficial. Of that there is no doubt. But I do not believe that is the only way to find my birthright. Indeed I think I have a very clear view of my birthright all ready."

Merlin is now watching Benedict for his reaction.

"I also do not believe we have the same birthright. That is something that is passed from parent to child. With our father's being so fundamentally different it would be unwise to believe that our inheritance will be fundamentally the same." Lilly's tone remains friendly and confident. Slight disagreements never truly bothered her. Indeed she rather enjoyed a healthy argument every now and again. They made her think which in turn caused her to expand her thoughts and fortify her own personal beliefs.

Benedict nods at her words.  "Exactly.  it is an individual experience."

Paige nods, also.

Lilly looks to her father. "Of course that is why I enjoy Paige's company.  We do have very different perspectives on most things. I find spending time with someone whose experiences are very different to my own is invaluable."

Her eyes then wander to Paige as she allows a small smile to light her features. It was a look meant to reassure her that regardless of what her father might think, Lilly would remain Paige's friend through out the days ahead.

Hazel eyes twinkle from beneath the mask of the emerald dragon, matching the smile on her green lips.
           She turns to Merlin, "It looks like the dancing will begin soon, my friend.  Perhaps you should accompany Lilly on her first round the floor," she suggests.

Merlin looks a little confused, then the brickbat hits him on the head. He turns to Lilly and says, "Dame Dragon, will you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

Benedict looks on, impassive.

There is a slight pause before Lilly responds as she tries to discern why exactly Paige thinks the two of them need to dance together. Quickly she decides it best not to over think the situation and revert to graciousness.

"It would be an honor." Lilly says is a soft voice as she offers Merlin her arm allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor as the music begins.

After they leave, Benedict takes a drink and says "He fears shadows, that boy.  But he'll learn."

"Actually, he had reason earlier to believe you wished his demise, Uncle," Paige smiles. "But tonight's not an evening for such deep discussions."
            She selects a glass of wine from a passing server, but doesn't drink, as if she just remembered something.

Benedict looks at her and her wineglass and says "How very interesting.  I do not wish his demise.  Why did he think I did?"

"Of course you don't, Uncle," Paige agrees. "Otherwise I doubt he'd be dancing with your daughter, well at least not this sort of dance."

Benedict nods, comfortably on his own turf again.  "She would take him with the sword in three minutes.  Less if she was not trying to protect his life.  He is quick, though.  He might surprise her with a spell."

Paige nods.

"As to the specifics of why, I fear that's Merlin's story to tell, if he cares to," she says. "I just hoped a little interaction with a Hermit might quiet his nerves. Hermits are often equated with wisdom in my readings. In fact, that Fortune appeared in a reading for Merlin last night."

"How interesting.  What was the layout and where was the hermit, if I may ask?"

"A pyramid spread," Paige says, comfortably on her own turf, and intrigued that it might be Benedict's also. "The Hermit appeared reversed as the reading's Fault."
            "Do you read the Fortunes, Uncle?"

"I do everything, Niece."

"Of course you do, of course."
            "You'll excuse me, Uncle. It's been a pleasure, but it seems there's a devil that wishes my first dance."

He nods, and stands watching her retreat and the beginning of the dance.  When Bleys notices him, he departs.

* * *

Some time after Merlin, Lilly, and Paige enter, Gerard arrives. His wheelchair is covered in papier-mache to disguise it as a chariot, with two mock horses attached to the front of it. He is wearing a toga and a helmet with a horsehair crest. He is not masked, but there's no hiding who he is in the wheelchair.
            Benedict is the next personage of note to enter, also distinguishable by his injuries. He is in a long brown robe, and carries no blade, but only a tall staff wreathed in flowers. No one doubts that a one-handed Benedict with a staff is as deadly as a Benedict with a blade.

Corwin and Flora arrive together. It's hard to tell which of them snagged the other for arm candy, but gosh, they look pretty together.
            Corwin is a black and silver harlequin, with a rose-clasped cloak. Apart from the way the colors are laid out, they're not very outre, but that seems to be standard for the older men. He is wearing Grayswandir.
            Flora is in a somewhat old-fashioned dress of pale green and yellow. Like Cambina, she has selected a standing ruff, but hers is gold-chased and highlights her blonde hair. Her green skirt is chased with golden beams.

By the time Julian arrives on the scene, most of those invited to the masquerade have already arrived. He wears a plain white robe with a simple belt, from which hang a blade and a matched pair of goblets. The white robe is complemented by a large white pair of feathered wings, which arc over his shoulders like a cape.
            And of course, his domino mask completely disguises his identity.
            When he enters, he notes the positions of the Huntress and the Phoenix, and that of his golden counterpart, before moving to speak with the gentleman in the chariot.

Moments after Julian's arrival, Folly and Martin appear.  Folly is laughing gaily and seems perhaps a little out-of-breath, as if she had to rush to get here on time.
            She is dressed in a white sleeveless dress, velvet and close-fitting through the bodice but with a full, flowing skirt that almost seems to float around her as she moves.  Closer inspection reveals that it is overlaid with white feathers, great soft plumes that stir in the breeze.
            Gathered on at the nape of the neck is a gauzy, faintly irridescent material, sheer enough to reveal that the dress beneath is backless -- as if the designer perhaps expected it to be worn under very hot lights.  The bottom corners of the material attach to the wrists of Folly's long white opera gloves, forming a cape that looks almost like wings.
            She wears on her head a small white cap overlaid with white feathers, a red-orange point on its front and black beads on the sides forming the beak and eyes of a swan.  Two long curving white feathers trail from the back of the cap, suggesting the swan's curved neck.
            Her black domino mask even has a white swans on it, one on each side, extending their wings up and out off the sides of the mask.

Martin is dressed in a rich velvet doublet of indigo and black, with black hose and black boots. He wears a swan helm in black, probably made of papier-mache rather than metal, that covers the top half of his face, its stylized wings extending up and back along the sides and a head, its beak reaching down to his nose and concealing his identity rather effectively . He is recognizable to the observant by his distinctive blade with its heavy sapphire pommelstone, the same one he
wore to the coronation.

Jerod is very observant of reactions from his uncles and aunts at this point.

As Jerod looks around the Great Hall, he sees that several of his aunts and uncles have seen Martin's arrival, but there are no overt reactions that add up to more than "they're here".

Martin escorts Folly through the hall towards the champagne palace,  stopping along the way for a word or two, but no more, with assorted well-wishers.

Jerod does not depart from his current course, though he is able to catch Martin's eye for a moment to nod a welcome.  He remains more observant of the reactions of others towards the pair when he is not in conversation with anyone.

Folly, likewise, politely greets any well-wishers but is not yet inclined to strike up involved conversations with any but her own escort.  To those who are paying attention, she seems happy almost to the point of giddiness -- a night-before-summer-holidays sort of anticipation.
            As she and Martin reach the champagne fountain, Folly masks a mischievous grin behind a smile of pleasant blandness, the kind with which someone might inquire about the weather; but as she nods approvingly at the magnificent ice sculpture, she murmurs, for Martin's ears alone, "Do you think my tongue would stick to it if I licked it?"

Martin whispers something back into Folly's ear in a voice too low for those nearby to hear. From the too-polite blandness of his own smile and the sparkle in his eyes, astute onlookers might guess whatever he said was risque. He fetches Folly a glass of champagne, and one for himself.
            Martin is definitely a magnet for young ladies and their parents, a number of whom keep an eye him and Folly from various corners of the Great Hall and the side rooms as they chat while waiting for the arrival of the king and the beginning of the festivities. Martin ends up as something of a one-man receiving line, accepting congratulations on the day from all and sundry, and more than one semi-introduction to an eligible nymph or doe-eyed fawn with whom he might wish to dance later.

And Jerod makes an exact note of every single one of the parents and such who are keeping that eye on Martin and company...

Folly occasionally becomes aware of Jerod's attention. On one such occasion, when she thinks no one else is paying attention, she smiles and winks in his general direction.  He gets the sense she finds this parade of eligible meat rather amusing, although she's doing a pretty good job of maintaining decorum.
            Of course, those bland pleasantries she occasionally whispers to Martin are probably neither bland nor what most people would consider pleasant, unless they enjoy a healthy dose of sarcasm.

Martin appears to be amusing himself in the same way.

"How much s--t do you think Vialle would give us if we dumped a couple hundred tabs of ecstasy in the champagne fountain?"

"Hey, there's Lady Vesper, all in brown. She could have spared the detail work, left her braid down in the back, and gone as the hangman's tree."
            His eyes are bright and a bit too dilated.

Nobody else in the room, not even the King's brothers, seems to have drawn quite so many well-wishers as the young prince. While none would dare to broach business on this occasion, Martin's mask simply seems to protect him a little less than those of his relatives do.

Folly, for her part, is practicing a subtle form of crowd control, stepping in to divert the attention of the occasional over-eager or otherwise unpleasant well-wisher whenever she senses Martin wants rescuing.  It's all done with such sparkling good humor that her victims may not even realize what she's doing.

Martin does, and appreciates it.