HEARTHOLME Chapter 5: Dancing around the Truth

William Targryn became a third wheel when Tywin left. There is a certain group dynamic that works when his brother is present. There is a different dynamic when he is not and the other two don't know how annoying public displays of affection are. It isn't that he loathes the idea, but it isn't how his brain is wired. His father considers him the smart one in the family. He is the one no one worries about. If he held his breath, William is convinced he could become invisible.
The thin silver dargonborn holds his breath and sneaks out while Kyrin and Iris start on theories of the game. This theorycrafting hypes on for a handful of minutes and is his only distraction before they invite him to spend the day together out of pity. If asked, he would oblige because its the polite thing to do and he doesn't have a logical defense to why he shouldn't. It may be the need to construct something logical that has him going to Fabian's shop 'Fae, Lore, and More'. Pauline is likely working there and, if caught, he can explain that he was filling her in as promised. After a job well done, no one could blame him for wanting to get back to a good bit of reading.
The store is a night and day difference from his own. The owner carefully places out antiquities on display in glass cases that are kept clean. Shelves are lined with an artistic gallery of exotic vision. One goes to Fabian's story to experience wonders of a magical world as he is one of the only that has any connection to the outside world. The bell jingles with notes that appear in the air by a misty vapor. "Hello," William says with a sheepishly raised hand to the young elvish girl tending the counter.
"Why William, I am so very glad to see you. Tending this store by my lonesome is the worst," Pauline pouts. Her accent drawls in as exotic as the store she tends. "And worst of all, Iris has yet to stop by for our dance lessons."
Some time ago, Iris took a stray interest in Pauline's tapdancing. Pauline took that stray interest as genuine and since they she has considered herself Iris' dance teacher. The actual ability to dance is still in its early stages for Pauline, but for an elf it would be decades later before she considers herself a master of the craft. "Is she okay?" the friend asks, holding her hands together in a clasp.
"She is fine," William says as his eyes slide to the side. He isn't able to maintain eye contact for long when talking to someone. It is a habit that persists around all people to some degree, but it is especially bad around Pauline. It feels as if she is reading his mind. That gaze of hers roams around the valleys of his brains and his thoughts with a rhythmic tap tap tapping of her feet.
"So how did the session go," Pauline asks with a bright smile. That smile only further confirms William's suspicious that Pauline was a witch. A bewitching witchy witch in a magical shop of witch widgets.
William keeps his eyes set to the right of her this time. No witch is going to read his complicated and easily embarrassed mind, "You were missed, first off, but we did start early in the day versus the evening. So you are forgiven."
"So kind," Pauline mocks as her elbows settle on the glass counter. The dark haired fae rests her chocolate eyes on the silver bookworm. "I will be sure to repay said kindness in due time."
There is an awkward pause between them. William clears his throat, "Which," he pauses. Did he just say witch? Another cough, "Which leads me to the events as they unfolded!" Pauline takes delight in the turn of the words. If she truly was a witch, she certainly wasn't going to let that secret loose without more than a poorly danced choice of words.
"The druid we encountered in the woods left us in a precarious situation. Ty was separated from the party and has a dramatic affair away from the rest of us," William begins. His articulate hands wave about as he retells the story. "Affairs are nothing if not dramatic and away from the rest of the party, Will," Pauline counters teasingly. William does not break stride this time and chooses to ignore her antics, "So our side of things started at the edge of the forest. Ryan played your character and, of course, Orion. This time the two of you had a background contribution under the guise of still under the effects of the forest charm."
"Forest charm," Pauline perks, "but, Faelor is immune to charms as faeborn elvish nobleman. I thought you'd recall this triviality as your own ranger shares a bit of lineage and immunity to such things."
William shoots a gaze back, locking eyes with the mystical store owner's sister, and retorts, "Its a game of improvisational story telling. You go 'yes, and' not ruffle feather over why a plot device is or is not working." Too much eye contact. William draws his soft purple eyes elsewhere. To that fine dagger that only looks somewhat menacing in the late afternoon light.
"Oh I see," Pauline feigns, "do go on, you silly boy."
Of the things WIlliam hates being called it is 'boy'. He isn't as masculine as his taller, muscular brother. Compared to Tywin, boyish is an accurate way of depicting the bibliophile. Heat rushes to his cheeks once more like blood on snow. "A-Anyway," William continues, "we had to break through a battlefield to reach to where Ty was. His sister Alberta was there and..."
"Alberta?" Pauline interrupts. "Yes, Alberta," William repeats. "Isn't that an odd name?" Pauline asks. "No," William defends the honor of his sister, both in the fictional world and in her memory in the real one. "Oh, I mean no offense, precious. I know your older sister was dear to you and your family. What I mean to say is Alberta is an oddly curious name to use and your storyteller is a wily one. What is the name of your rival again? Albert, isnt it?"
William stands lost for a moment. So this is what it must feel like to be Kyrin. "Yes. Albert von Wulfengeist. His son, Thomas was there vexing Ty and..." the voice lingers in an attempt to continue with his retelling of the story.
"What if they are one in the same," Pauline suggests, "Albert. Alberta. When is the last time we have truly seen either."
"What?!" William jumps. He hadn't thought of that. "So. No. That can't be the case."
"It would be quite a twist, would it not," Pauline dances around the topic, "Just the sort of thing Ryan would put in to keep you on your toes." She wrinkles her nose like a bunny, "Keep an open mind, mmm?" Her face smooths out like a freshly made bed carved in with a smile as sweet as honey.
"Witch," William thinks to himself, staring at her with a slightly twitching eye. His mind finds a voice as he speaks in even tones, "I like to think Ryan wouldn't go that far."
"Would it hurt your feelings, sugah," Pauline asks as she takes a finger to one of her dark curls that spill around her face. "To see an older sister become an older father."
"I don't even know how to answer that, Pauline," William says. The mental image of the conversions strike up imagery that his brain struggles to reconcile correctly. Its not uncommon to change shape with higher levels of spells, true. That would include variables of gender or age. Yet the emotional context of family with those. His face tells the story of his mental process as he goes through the paces. The woman tending the store offers a victorious laughter in soft, quiet tones.
"The elite of the town sure are conservative in mindset. I thought you were different, though, what with the books and the curiosities," she pulls him out of the mental mire, "Do not get me wrong, I do not mean to judge, but the observations are stark. You don't see any other part of town getting its own name like that."
The Dragon Quarter is what she refers to. Heartholme doesn't make it a habit of naming parts of the town. The idea of zoning at this size is an act of ego, not of practical civics management. So when a section of town where the noble blooded dragonborn all reside gets a name attached to it, the townsfolk consider it an act of pride. The Tagryn families that live there do not see the pride as a bad thing. To them, they are the responsible guardians of the denizens. It only makes sense to establish a capstone on the precipice of the civilization they build.
The fact of ego is not lost on William. He is not proud of the behavior that it evokes. He is proud of the history behind it. "Its an important reminder of our roots in the area," William says as he paces like a lecturing professor, "how long ago has it been since we founded this little corner of Arhor'ha? It has become a new haven of life in a place of savage wilderness."A silver finger points in Pauline's direction, "The Faewild is not much different, you know, and rightfully so as it is that echo of our material world that has had the most influence on these lands. If not for Targe and his blood blessed kin, like the Targryns, there would be no Dragon's Heart. It is the very center that protects and pushes back that which threatens our existence. It came at a great cost! Memorializing those that came before us to make our lives possible isn't a bad thing." His habit of avoiding eye contact let him continue on further than he should have. The elvish woman is looking past him instead of at him. "Sorry, too far?"
"No," Pauline replies as she looks to the windows of her brother's store. People are rushing about faster than usual, "Possibly, yes, in truth. However there appears to be a ruckus outside. Why, that never happens in this peaceful little hamlet. That distraction was no match for your eloquent portrayal of biased history."
William turns to the window. Light footsteps take him to the pane. The Dragon's Heart remains there as a vigilant sentinel. It casts its hue against those that run past and towards an amassed crowd that festers around a single wound. The dragonborn steps out of the shop and starts walking towards the amassing crowd. "Whats going on," he asks one of the townsfolk. When they hear the young Targryn boy the chatter calms down like birds shocked by the presence of a cat. They part away to reveal another figure on the ground. He collapsed on the floor in broad daylight. The tall, strong, proud, and barely breathing, "Tywin!" William shouts, quickly scurrying to his brother's side to check for his sick brother's vitals.