“Why not?” He could tell she wanted more than that. “I want to see you,” he left off the final word, again. The sex was incredible, not to brag but he was well practiced and good enough at reading people to tell she’d been satisfied. He had been too. She was insatiable initially, nearly desperate, and that’s something he could respect. Despite that, he could see her looking to leave. She’d only stopped when they’d started talking and he’d answered her questions about half elves. 

You couldn’t know who anyone was at the party. That was the rule most commonly broken. Parties were places to make deals and enact them. You wore a mask that your partner picked, or you chose careful colors to give yourself away, but not too well- not enough that your enemies could find out who you were. It was all part of the game they all played. That’s why taking off your mask was a violation, but he was certain that they’d never met before, and if they didn’t see each other, then maybe they’d never meet again.

She was watching him, her brows furrowed in the way they did when she was trying to parse his motives, or catch him in a lie. She was incredibly good at it, better than he’d given her credit for at the start of the evening, but after she’d spotted a few he’d stopped bothering with fibs. What she wasn’t very good at was hiding her feelings. It was never difficult to guess at the tone of her thoughts, even if he didn’t know exactly what they were. Hadn’t been from the moment they met.

“You want to see me,” she repeated before a small smile found her lips, “but you’ve already seen most of me.”

Difficult, and there wasn’t any reason to be, but he did like that about her. “Yeah, yeah, I have. And now I’d like to see the rest.” He considered for a brief pause before appending, “please,” onto the end. Saying please almost never hurt. It had only gotten him stabbed a couple times.

“And he asks so politely,” she teased before her face dropped and she shrugged. Her nimble fingers reached back to the ties that held her mask in place, vines that twisted together through her hairstyle by magic, but released at the touch of her will. She let down her mask, unaware of how brave an action she was taking, but fully aware of his smile upon her and the way it thrilled her inside. 

He couldn’t help but grin as her mask came away. It was so tangled in the elaborate braids she’s plaited across her scalp that neither it nor they moved despite the duress they’d been put under by their tryst. 

She was pretty. Cute. Her slightly pointed ears were covered by bits of hair, enough that she could be mistaken for a human by someone who wasn’t paying attention. Her frame was more elven, in that it was slight, but she’d never be mistaken for one. Her ears were too short and her chest was too large, but that didn't bother him. He’d never disrespected half-elves for not being full-blooded. It wasn’t their fault how they were born. 

Her lips were full, but he knew that already. He’d checked and been back to check again. Her nose was long and straight, following a similar line to her mask, and most of the masks there tonight. His imagination could have filled in the rest of her face if he’d tried, but that wasn’t good enough for magic. He reached forward and brushed her cheek along the bone, somewhere he hadn’t been able to touch before. She glanced downward at the touch, the awkwardness he’d grown accustomed to throughout the evening returning again, only this time he could see her cheeks darken slightly. Why was that? He knew that she wasn’t shy about her body, or about his. It wasn’t physicality, it was intimacy that seemed to bother her.

He would have stopped. Some people just weren’t into that, wasn’t anything he minded. Sometimes that wasn’t what he was looking for either, but she leaned into it, craved it, even as it bothered her. He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Her lipstick was smudged now, it was late in the evening and she’d done plenty to ruin it by this point. Her lips looked dark underneath the light shade she’d chosen for them, darker than her skin, certainly, which in itself was a testament to her mixed heritage.

“Well?” She prompted him, drawing him from his thoughts on her lineage.

“Oh, right, you’re beautiful. Hate to leave a girl waiting-”

“No.” she rolled her eyes and gestured to his mask. “It’s your turn. I can’t be the only one breaking rules. If I go down you’re coming with me.”

“What? Again?” He quipped, his grin training as he reached back to untie his own mask. It hadn’t been secured magically like hers, just simple ties to keep it in place, along with a few pins hidden in his hair for added security. They took time to take out, and each one he handed over to her while she sat patiently.

“Were all those really necessary?”

“Yeah,” he huffed amused, “don’t all have magic to keep things on our faces, love. Can’t have our masks falling off halfway through the dance. Bow to your partner, they get a little more than they bargained for.”

“Your face.” Honestly, she couldn’t understand what the big deal was. People see each other’s faces all the time in the real world. It didn’t matter that much at the end of the day.

As though reading her mind, he continued. “Identities hold power, especially here.” He removed his hand from his hair long enough to gesture towards her. “I could find you now, if I liked. Name and what you look like, that’s all you need.”

“And to be on the same plane of existence,” she clarified.

“Well, yeah, that, but that’s not too hard, is it? Pop in, cast a spell and you know if the person’s there.”

She paused thoughtfully before a small smile found her face. “Are you planning to find me after this?”

“Do you want me to?” he countered, hiding his interest in her answer with a playful expression.

She waited to answer. He’d just finished removing the pins from his hair and was pulling the mask away. She knew the answer, felt it rising from beneath her ribs, wanting to spill off her tongue like a traitor. Of course she did. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was some spell he cast, or the magic of the evening, or maybe she’d just gone slightly mad, but for the first time she knew that she wanted to see another person for longer than a day. She wanted to see him until he grew completely sick of her, and she knew that he would. Everyone grew tired of her eventually. She always said just the wrong thing. He’d grow tired, or he’d meet someone new and then she’d be left heartbroken and that pain was always enough to make her not even try anymore, but in that moment it seemed like it might be worth the risk.

The mask fell away and she held her breath. He was so beautiful it made her want to cry. She’d heard of the Wyldland elves and their beauty, how they shifted between seasons, their whole persona going with them. This might not always be his face, but she knew she cared for him before she’d ever seen it. What did it matter if it was sometimes different?

“You're beautiful,” she whispered as he passed over his mask of grey feathers, subtly twisted together in a wolfish shape.

He chuckled at her repetition. “I already used that one, love.”

“No, I mean it.”

“Well, I meant it too.” 

Honestly, he wouldn’t even accept a compliment right away. “I’ve never seen anyone like you.”

He grinned, white teeth flashing into a crooked grin. “Well, that’ll be why then.” He shifted to make himself comfortable again, facing the rain rather than her. “I’m more rugged and grotty around here. Don’t mind it. Somebody’s gotta be, and I’m good at it.”

“What? No.” She couldn’t imagine anyone prettier than him. She followed him for a better look, crawling back into his lap to scrutinize him. He chuckled as she did so, but didn’t comment. He wouldn’t want her to grow self conscious and stop.

She blinked and then studied him anew, her nose scrunching slightly as her brows pulled together. She even produced a small mote of light to make it easier on her eyes. His pale skin was covered in light freckles, one of which was even on his lip, making it look especially biteable. She ignored the urge and continued her study. His eyes she’d looked at plenty already: red and ringed with orange. Long lashes occasionally obscured his eyes, but also framed them attractively. She found nothing disatisfying there. His brows were slightly darker than his hair, one of them had a bit of hair displaced at some point in the evening. His cheekbones were high, his jaw strong, his nose handsome. She had no idea what he was talking about. 

“I don’t see it,” she confessed her defeat with more consternation than regret. “If we put you in a dress you’d be prettier than I am.”

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist again. “I wouldn’t go that far.” She stared at him and he gazed back at her for a long moment before he took pity and gestured at the eyebrow with displaced hair. “Cursed blade. Got me when I was a kid. Been disfigured ever since.”

She pressed her lips together tightly and leaned forward to look again. Beneath the separated hair, and just above and below his eyebrow was a small scar running across the center of it over his right eye. As she stared as he continued talking. “Parents tried everything to fix it. Nothing worked. Gotta live with it, but I pull it off. Nothing wrong with a rugged elf.”

“Oh, yes,” she agreed. “I see it. It’s just there.” She frowned in confusion before informing him. “It’s really quite small.”

“Just what every guy wants to hear.”

“No, really. You can hardly tell it’s there! It doesn't upset your face at all.” She was surprised to have missed it, but even knowing about it, it wasn’t obvious. “If anything it gives it some added interest.”

“I like to think so.” 

The conversation lapsed and it was only then that she realized how close they were. She smiled, latching onto the first bit of conversation she could find. “So, you’ll wear the plants and I’ll be a wolf now?”

His expression dropped from serene contentment to a scowl in a moment. “Wolf? What wolf?”

“Your mask!” She held it up, as though he had forgotten his own outfit. 

“That ain’t a wolf.”

“Sure it is!” The grey feathers made a dog’s face, complete with pointed ears on top. 

It was his turn to peer at her, although his inspection had a mocking air. “I thought you were a druid.”

“I am a druid!” She was getting flustered. Flustered and annoyed as she always seemed to when he twisted a conversation, but beneath that was still amusement, enjoyment. He never took her insults at face value, never seemed to let them sting. They always blew up into a big laugh and that was- different. Comforting. The ease of conversation was something she’d never managed to have, but no matter what she said he never seemed to take it to heart. It always managed to become a joke in the end.

“Right. You’re a druid who's never seen a fox before. Sure.”

Her eyes and mouth opened, surprise and offense warring to overtake her. “That is not a fox! It’s grey!”

“Silver actually,” he corrected smugly.

“Foxes aren’t silver. They’re red and occasionally white. I’ve never-”

“What? Seen a silver one? Silver foxes are all over.”

Was that true? She couldn’t tell if he was joking. “Maybe in the Wyldlands, but nowhere I’ve been.”

He frowned too, now uncertain if she actually understood the joke. “Silver fox,” he repeated, but when he only got a blank stare he shook his head. “Right, druids don’t get out much.”

“We get out too much,” she argued, proud of the laugh he barked. 

“Out in the woods,” he agreed, “not around people. Yeah,” he scratched at his head and then shrugged. “I’ll let you figure that one out later.” He picked up his mask and began to secure it to her face. “Shouldn’t stay out here too long. They lock the doors at the end. It’ll be worse out here than it is in there.”

“Why are the doors locked?” His frown worried her, but she remembered that he couldn’t answer. “Another thing to figure out for myself.”

It made her stomach uncomfortable to think about, but she knew that she was capable, so whatever happened she trusted herself to get through it. She just hoped he’d be okay too.

Once she had the mask on she helped him secure his. It looked good on him, the green of the leaves bringing out the orange in his eyes. “So are you going to come find me?” The question was intended as a way to transition to easier conversation, but the moment she asked him she felt her stomach clench. Was that too much? Too soon? She didn’t want to seem too keen.

He noticed her panic and rubbed gently at her thighs to soothe her. The silk of her dress was cool from the night, the green darker in patches where the rain hit it. “You find me,” he offered instead. 

“Why should I have to do all the work?” Her eyes narrowed, “Are you just being lazy?” Too much? She didn’t want him to think she didn’t want to-

“Call it an exercise in consent.” She got his mask in place and he tipped his head around to test the fit. “What’d you say we bards are? ‘Happy with whoever comes along?’ you know I want to be found. You’re the recluse. Maybe you change your mind and I show up making things awkward. That’s not a good day in my books. You find me and we’ll both be pleased. How’s that?”

It made some sense, but she wasn’t even sure how to start looking! “Fine, be lazy. Will you at least stay in place for a while? You said you travel to different planes all the time. I’m only ever in one.”

Satisfied with the fit of his mask, he gently displaced her from his lap and stood to go back inside. “I’m not so hard to find once you know to look. You have my name and my face, You’re clever enough to put the rest together.”

“I suppose…” She would try, and she probably had enough magic to make it work. After all, he was from the Wyldlands and she knew how to get here. She’d just need a way to message him, and for that she just needed some small creatures. It would be easy. Hardly even an issue, and then she’d prove how capable she could be. “Back to the party then?”

He offered his arm and she took it, retracing their steps back to the dry hallway and then into the main hall. If anyone noticed their damp clothes or their change of mask they said nothing. Everyone was there for their own purpose, after all. They had their own schemes to worry over.