[Flashback] Meeting Day [Indyrio]

[Nelisella]

56th Day of Winter, 506 AV

"Of course he'll like me. Why wouldn't he?"

Her sister turned her head back to look at Nelisella, her eyebrows scrunched, a look of distaste written as plain as day on her face. She was never one to hide her emotions.

"Honestly, Nellie. Don't be so ignorant. When have you ever met a man that has not been irrevocably in love with me as soon as our eyes meet?" She turned her head back around, letting her long, brown tresses fall along her back. "And please, would you hurry up? I want to know why in the world mother would let you -- ow!"

Nelisella had pulled -- well, more like yanked -- on a knot tied up in Kisana's hair with the brush that was settled in her hands.

"Sorry." she said, a mocking tone to her voice. She didn't make it sound sincere. She couldn't let her sister have that kind of satisfaction. In some ways the two girls did not differ, something that both of them would never admit. Though, this day was for Kisana, and Kisana alone. Mother would never have it if she know her daughters were bickering on such an important day. She doesn't get mad about much, but this has always been a sensitive thing to her, for reasons the rest of the family could not comprehend.

Another Snowsong boy was coming, along with his family. This had been the second one of that Hold to make their way through their doors, to enamor Kisana, to find a way to her heart. So far, all of them have failed, a total of five so far. A young Vantha girl would be lucky to get just one interested suitor, let alone five. But this is how it's been for Kisana her entire life. Always having too much when she should've had nothing.

"Girls? Are you done with your hair?"

A familiar high-pitched voice rang out from the next room. Their mothers.

"Yes! Almost done." Nellie called back.

She was just now wrapping the bow around her sister's hair, leaving half of her hair up and braided, while the other half cascaded around her shoulders and down her back. She stepped back to admire her handiwork. "Do you like it?"

Kisana picked up a little mirror from the vanity in front of them and looked at her reflection. She was not one for things that were just, 'Alright'. She aimed for perfection in all things, especially in her appearance. "It'll do." was all she said in return as she set the mirror back down and began to stand. Her blue dress fell around her hips as she stood, not so much of an exquisite dress, but not one the average citizen would been seen wearing. Nellie did have to admit, (but not aloud) that her sister was quite the looker.

She made her way into the next room, and Nelisella followed. She was greeted by the smell of cooked venison, doughy bread, and another scent that she wasn't familiar with.

"I picked up some fresh vegetables from the Whitevines." her mother said. "They can grow them now, indoors! Isn't that wonderful?"

That would be something their mother would get excited over, herself once being a Whitevine. Really, Nellie found it quite dull, but she nodded, a smile coming to her face. "Yes, mum. That is wonderful."

"Now, Nellie, would you please fetch the twins and seat them at the table? Our guests will be here very soon."

She sighed and obeyed, scuffling off to find the twins.

[Indyrio]

“Tuck your tunic back in, boy. And stop fussing with your hair.” A guttural moan accompanied mulish compliance, Indyrio’s violet eyes casting hidden daggers into the tracks of snow before him. Having faced his father’s chastening more than enough to sate his thirst for mischief in the past week, Indyrio dared not defy him again. At least, not today of all days. But then again, today meant more to his father than it did for him. The boy loathed the very idea of the antiquated custom to its very core, bartered over like livestock and bound by a damnable chevas mark with vows that lacked conviction. Why anyone would willingly be married in such fashion was beyond him. At least today posed no guarantee. All the gifts of the northern holds couldn’t win a girl’s heart if he behaved ungraciously; a fact he’d proven twice before in years past. Concentrating on straightening the invisible pleats in his vest to avoid a father‘s scornful gaze, Indyrio could hear the restrained laughter of his mother’s amusement growing from his other side. It only seemed to serve in tampering with his father‘s irascible nature, a point that had their son gritting his teeth. “And what do you find so funny, Myriam?” His father’s tone had decidedly turned grim for the day, the task of finding his son a spouse more stressful than his duty as a man of the Icewatch. With mittens folded neatly before a long and elegant dress of fine silks and rich velvet, Myriam walked with the grace of a lioness, her light brown hair belying any hint of Vantha heritage despite fully accepting their customs. She smiled thoughtfully at the crackling snow beneath her feet, knowing well that her silence would only fluster the man more. It wasn’t until after a long pause that she spoke, the hint of a smirk playing upon her razor thin lips. “I am tickled, dear Yoni, that you dote upon your son like a handmaiden.” Any trace of laughter that had found its way to Indyrio’s throat was quickly stifled by a silently intimidating glare from his father. Though the men shared a great likeness in physical endowments with racial nuances aside, it was with his mother whom Indyrio shared personality. Which of the two the boy favored more was plain enough to see given the smile still woven on his skin. Unfortunately it found him rather unfavorably with his father when such events arose. Finding the gods merciful before he was again chided for his insolence, the family arrived at the doors of Skyglow Hold. They were artists of a different sort; more tangible in their efforts than those of Snowsong. Composing music was one thing, but turning that music into a piece that stunned one’s visual perceptions was entirely another. It had Indyrio balking from the moment he entered, boots dripping with fresh snow atop a bearskin rug while his eyes were taken with a single painting high upon the wall to his right. It was only after a gentle touch to his shoulder from a concerned mother that Indyrio was driven from his gaping and forced to look upon a man who felt decidedly much like his father, but wasn’t. In fact, the older men were already exchanging pleasantries by the looks of it, worn smiles on their faces as though they had known each other in the past quite well. When his father leveled a hand towards Indyrio’s direction by way of greeting, etiquette he’d practiced for such situations kicked in as second nature. The silver chain of the clasp that held his wolfskin cloak upon his shoulders jingled softly with the slight dip from his waist. Words he’d committed to memory fell from his lips without much thought, though were spoken with believable sentiment. “You honor me by inviting me as your guest, lord of Skyglow. I thank you for the opportunity to treat with your esteemed and beautiful daughter. May it be a blessed event that Morwen would smile upon.” The vani tongue could make anything sound like liquid gold pouring from one’s mouth.