Headed by a Snake

"You're a lucky man, Mister Castiglioni!" Ramon roared, lifting his wine cup, "How about a toast?! To the finest Popoto I'll ever meet in this life!"

The toast was well received-- well enough that Coraline no longer had to worry about trying overmuch to avoid awkwardness.

Lucrezia filled her husband's wine cup... thankfully, not too full. Even Lord Arod seemed to be infected by the mood, lifting his wine glass to toast the happy couple.

It *was* Elven wine. That undoubtedly influenced the Ancient's willingness.

Walking around the dining hall, he still stayed six fulms away from Mister Ramon, at all times. Even copious amounts of booze didn't patch up xenophobia so easily, it seemed.

With glasses emptied, Giorgio blinked his drunken eyes as he gazed across the table... at the boisterous, red-skinned tiefling, "And you, Mister Ramon? If you could choose a woman to spend the rest of your suns with?"

"Pff aHahaHA!" Ramon chortled, "Easiest answer ever! You all should know, don'tcha think?!"

Coraline furrowed her brows... "Mister Ramon? Who would you choose then?"

The tiefling downed the rest of his wine before roughly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "Mister Giorgio's wife. Obviously."

...Coraline had never seen anyone, Popoto or otherwise, turn as red as Lady Lucrezia did in that moment.

...

Even with Lady Lucrezia limiting her husband's 'merriment', Mister Giorgio Castiglioni had to excuse himself to his quarters. He conveniently blamed his old age.

Everyone on board knew that the Popoto's condition was due to enjoying several too-many glasses of wine.

Miss Maisie, who doubled as the ship physician, promised to deliver him a tincture to prevent an otherwise certain hangover. Even though she had a slightly rough way of speaking, she was a consummate professional.

Coraline had a lively conversation with the adventurer, Miss Felicity, talking about hiking and camping in Kasydon-- up until Ramon had to be half-carried, half-dragged off by her and Elladan.

Coraline assumed the tiefling had never had Elven wine before. Ramon had guzzled it down as if it was watered-down ale from a public house. It was not.

Elven drink was nothing like weak Dwarven spirits.

The closest comparison was a type of spirit from the Eastern States called moonshine. Strong and sweet alcohol was probably the strongest link between humans and elves, where Coraline was from.

With the noisiest passengers gone, Lord Arod had found a surprising conversational partner in young master Tychon.

They discussed a series of high topics... and were currently critiquing the most recent actions of the High Council in Alizeau.

The scholar revealed his identity as a young Baron and landowner there... and that he was mostly fluent in Elven.

More shockingly, Lord Arod was familiar with his achievements, even if in passing.

The green-haired noble was full of surprises.

It made Coraline even more suspicious of him... while also making her want to give up trying to read the intent behind those golden eyes. She remained in the dining hall, sitting in and listening to their conversation, keeping herself caught up on current events.

They were better company than the rats in her room.

After Captain Nikandros and Olesya excused themselves, Coraline was left alone with the two nobles... and the awkward boy sitting across from her, Mister Lone.

"H-hey... do you wanna get outta here?" He whispered.

Was Lone... talking to her?

No, he was looking away? He was probably bored of the conversation and wanted to go back to his room.

...If he was talking to her, then maybe he'd say it again? Coraline would love an opportunity to gather information about him and the mysterious green-haired youth.

Tychon proved skilled at replying to Lord Arod in the common tongue... And he did it in such a way that his companion could understand the general gist.

He did... oversimplify certain concepts-- probably too much, but Arod didn't seem to mind.

When Mister Lone was not honed in on the conversation, he kept stealing... peculiar, judgmental glances at her.

Coraline was absolutely certain there was nothing on her face. She had carefully and extensively pored over her reflection in her empty wine glass to make sure of it.

Perhaps he'd never seen an elf before? While elves weren't exactly rare, most humans found them to be difficult company... Lord Arod, for example, fit that stereotype well.

Coraline did not have that problem. She'd been exposed to both human and Elven society throughout her life, so she felt like she could fit into either.

She did find even small crowds difficult, but that was not reason enough to actively avoid speaking to her. Even young master Tychon had asked her polite, safe questions, like where she was from and for what reason was she traveling to Cersei's Rest.

"Ahem," Lone cleared his throat... "Master Highblade, I have a question."

And the first person Lone addressed was not her... it was the notoriously difficult-to-talk-to Ancient.

That made her... very... disappointed-- not that she could voice her complaint.

Lord Arod grimaced, directing his black-sclera eyes towards Tychon.

The golden-eyed noble motioned for his companion to continue, "Speak your mind, Mister Lone. If you mince words with an elf, you'll earn nothing."

"R-right," The boy chuckled nervously, "I was wondering why you didn't have to surrender your weapons. I thought only Miss Olesya was allowed to open-carry a weapon on the ship?"

"M-master Arod is a noble of House Highblade!" Coraline squeaked... far louder than she had intended.

"Hmm..." The Ancient pursed his lips, swirling his glass of wine in contemplation.

"But... Mister Giorgio had to surrender his jewel-encrusted dagger? --or so he said," Lone offered... sounding almost apologetic that he asked.

It was true that... Mister Giorgio was... not a very threatening individual. Still, a sharp dagger was as deadly in the hands of a human as it was in the hands of a child-sized Popoto.

"The family that owns the Windwright's guild is of Elven lineage," Tychon explained. "House Highblade's wealth and time-honored status far exceed that of whatever mercantile association Mister Giorgio belongs to. Therefore... it would be a great disservice to Master Arod Highblade and his kinsmen to have his heirloom weapons taken from him."

Tychon inclined his head respectfully, "Have I guessed correctly, friend-elf?"

"That is... not entirely correct, Monsieur le Baron," Arod admitted in Alizeaun-accented common. He paused to take a graceful pull of wine before continuing... "The weapons I carry are not mundane... nor are they enchanted with simple magics... They are known as... the Blades of the Forgotten King... ancient relics from an era that was old before I was a sapling... like Miss Coraline of Heartsong."

The Blades of the Forgotten King... Coraline had never heard of such artifacts.

Then again... Ancients cannot lie. They are masters of deceit, as deadly with their words as with their blade arts... but it is not in their nature to say things that are untrue.

"House Highblade has deemed that I deliver them to Tyrion's High Oracle," Arod continued. "--zat perhaps a trustworthy outsider may offer a new perspective on their secrets..."

"(Also, Baron Tychon...)" Arod added, reverting completely to Elven, "(Order your companion to cease his lustful gaze towards the Heartsong Sapling. While onboard this ship, she is under the protection of House Highblade.)"

His what-now? Under the protection of who?

"(Lord Highblade, I do not require your *protection*,)" Coraline seethed through clenched teeth.

While the Ancient's audacity was to be expected, she was not a porcelain doll that needed a man's 'protection' from anything or anyone.

"(Sapling...) Arod furrowed his eyebrows, "(Do you... fancy this human?)"

His expression was as if Coraline was the only sapling that ever dared to talk back to him-- much less refuse his... admittedly very generous offer. The protection of House Highblade was... not something that was granted so easily... and she'd just thrown it back in the Ancient's face.

Still, Coraline would stand by her words...

Wait-- did she fancy who-now?

She looked back at the young master and his companion.

Tychon had disconnected himself from the conversation, focusing his full attention on a wooden puzzle box atop a shelf.

Mister Lone, the cute but oblivious boy wore a foolish grin-- completely unaware that he was the topic they were discussing.

Did she fancy... him?

Absolutely not.

Perhaps.

No, not in a hundred lifetimes.

But the hundred and first?

...Nothing was certain.

Young master Tychon, the herald of chance, could possibly have granted her this once-in-a-hundred-and-one-lifetime opportunity.

"(I will not take back my words...)" Coraline whispered... "(--respectfully, Lord Highblade.)"

"(Nor I, mine,)" Arod hmphed, narrowing his gaze at the golden-eyed Baron, before standing from his chair, "Thank you for the conversation. I daresay that this journey won't be as droll as I had been expecting."

"I am honored by your presence, Master Highblade." Tycon nodded, standing to mirror Arod's actions, "I will inform my companion of your... gentle suggestions, in private."

"I'd really rather you not," Coraline sighed.

Arod shrugged as he walked off-- an unnaturally human affectation, coming from him, "You may heed the sapling's wishes, Baron. The Ancients are destined to wither away... and the young will rise to take their place."