[Log] Some Cheese with Her Whine, Pt. 1

[brazenbronzer]

Who: Alina, D'mer, Fiora, Grayden, Henslee (NPC), Ilyan, Jerimian (NPC), Kadriya, Kelara, Lowell (NPC), L'yan, P'nell, Sh'drian, Tarianel, Winter, Zora
When: Day 28, Month 2, Turn 3, 11th Pass
Where: Great Hall, Seminole Hold
What: The Iernites upstage Lady Kadriya of Seminole and Lord Grayden's wedding.
Notes: Find Pt. 2 here and Pt. 3 here.

---| Great Hall |-----------------------------------| Seminole Hold (#55) |---
     The white walls of Seminole Hold give the Great Hall a bright look, despite the fact that it receives very little natural light. Tables are set in orderly rows throughout most of the center of the room, with a dais at the eastern held holding the Lord Holders table, for his family and guests. Along the southern edge of the room, several narrow tables stand against the wall to serve as a sideboard when needed, while a small area just before the Lords dais is left clear for impromptu dancing. A large hearth is built into the outer wall of the Great Hall, which serves to heat the hall the few times such an effort is needed. Typically, the heat from the kitchens is enough to keep the hall at comfortable levels. A small tunnel to the right of the dais leads into the kitchens, judging by the sounds that come from it. Tapestries hang along the white walls, adding splashes of color to leaven the stark contradiction of white walls and dark wood furniture. Historic scenes are woven in thread, and the elaborately carved poles that hold the tapestries are often decorated with lesser gemstones. At the eastern end of the hall, a regal staircase curves up to a balcony that encircles the great hall itself. Wide enough for six to stand abreast it is carpeted in a rich red, and framed with ornate stone handrails.
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A nice draft billows through this archway, carrying the warmth of the kitchens as well as its delicious scents. The stone archway is grand (measuring fifteen feet wide) and the exceptional stonework is adorned with carvings of various foodstuffs.

The hall has been rearranged today to make room for the celebration, including a large buffet table at one side of the room. The groom is standing near the dias at the head of the room, looking somewhat nervous and gazing about the room as it begins to fill with the various guests.

Henslee enters the great hall, from a door off to the side, he mumbles something about nothing ever starting on time, and directs the journeyman here and there to assist people to their seats. He himself stands at the front of the room and addresses everyone walking in. "If you all will kindly find your seats. We shall be starting in just a few moments." He nods and steps to the side to wait.

Winter arrives promptly on time, holding a small invitation in her hand, unengraved, but she doesn't seem to be reluctant to be present. Leaving Alaemyth to hobnob with the other dragons, she fidgets with the dress the Ierne dragon insisted she wear, striding purposefully into the Great Hall. Once the journeyman begins to call people to order, she moves toward one of the seats, finally finding the one she believes she's supposed to be occupying, tucking her legs under her and settling in, folding her hands neatly on her lap.

P'nell turns to look saround as he slowly enters the area, pausing slightly as he does so. The area is quickly scanned before he quietly moves to to seat himself into one of the nearby chairs.

Grayden nods his greeting to the harper, murmuring a thank you before returning to his earlier fidgeting. As more guests arrive, he's careful to incline his head respectfully to the Weyrwomen and Weyrleaders who arrive, as well as the other lord holders.

Jerimian strides in through the hall's entrance, only to be hindered in his progress by a gaggle of young women whose long dresses and hair styles seem much more of interest to them than obeying orders to be seated. Politely but firmly, he clears his throat and indicates that they should move so those who want to sit can sit. He ushers an older gentleman into a chair beside him and half-scowls at something whispered.

L'yan enters, one hand twitching at his clothing here and there, though rather than straightening any of it, he mostly ends up by twisting it out of place and adding a wrinkle here and there. Looking very, very out of place, he stops not far into the Great Hall and looks around with a hint of panic as other people milling move to seats with far more purpose than the Weyrlingmaster can bear to show.

Entering from the courtyard a few steps behind Winter, Sh'drian looks edgy, and his saunter is a bit slower and more reluctant than usual. Perhaps some of this is owing to the fancy clothes he's donned for the occasion. As Winter heads for a seat, he follows her and seats himself unceremoniously next to her. Unlike the prim Weyrwoman, he sprawls gracelessly in his seat, like a little kid at a boring lecture.

D'mer arrives with L'yan, expressionless as usual but lacking his usual iciness in favor of a subdued calm. Aqua eyes sweep over those already present, keeping close to his weyrmate, so close in fact that when the weyrlingmaster stops moving he almost walks right into him. He gives the back of the brownrider a touch of an irritated look before quickly recovering and falling in step behind. He too takes a seat, tucking some of his loose hair behind his ears as if in after thought.

In a low, calm discussion in the corner, Lowell speaks in soft, unhurried words to a woman of lower ranking older than he is, gesturing slightly to the kitchen near the dais. He smiles warmly and nods with a gentle word of greeting as associates pass, and before long breaks off conversation with the fellow baker before turning. A few unfamiliar eyes glance to the man of thirty three bearing a Master Baker's knot, but he ignores them. "You're looking well tonight, Henslee," he tells the old harper with a bit of a wry grin.

Zora enters the hall, being just another body in the crowd, shes quiet at she takes a seat, making a point to not attact attention, so as to not be disruptive in any way. She sighs lightly seeing a few familure faces, but many more unfamilure ones, not the most comfortable of situations.

Winter cheerfully and very quietly stomps on her Weyrleader's toe when he sprawls next to her, keeping a bright smile on her face the whole time. A flick of her fingers is directed to L'yan, indicating a seat is free next to her, and another one beyond for D'mer.

Down the broad stairway, her steps slow, dark eyes scanning over the guests that have taken quiet seats, Kadriya makes her way into the Hall. A moment, that gaze lingers here and there, before it settles near the dais, and remains there for the long slow walk down, and across the expanse of stone before the chairs. A little smile graces her features, and perhaps noone notices the way she bites the corner of those upturned lips, or how the hand gripping her skirt to keep it from the sweep of teh stairs remains for the walk across the flat stone.

L'yan continues to look lost until he spots Winter and her gesture. He sighs in relief and heads that way, pausing to wave to D'mer to follow him from the seat the greenrider had initially taken. Then he makes his bumbling way through the crowd, making muttered apologies to those he has to squeeze by until he can slip into the seat next to his Weyrwoman, who gets a nod and a smile. Sh'drian is ignored.

Henslee glances at the voice that had spoken his name. "Ah Lowell, I thank you, your doing well yourself it seems, everything is looking ready." He says and gives a nod. He sees movement from the corner of his eye and steps forward again. "Ladies and Gentleman, if you could please find your seats now, we shall begin." He gestures for Grayden to step up, as he'll step back for the moment.

Grayden swallows quickly as Kadriya makes an appearance, then smiles once he can catch her gaze. At the Harper's direction, he nods his agreement, stepping forward to the indicated position before turning his attention to the Harper.

Sh'drian remains quiet as Winter grinds her foot down on his, only a brief flicker of annoyance crossing his face. Then, glancing to L'yan, Sh'drian smirks slightly; he very pointedly doesn't look at D'mer. And he doesn't straighten up any, either, though he tilts his head slightly toward Winter to mutter to her.

Sh'drian mutters to Winter.

You whisper "Good to know it's still the same ornery, mean-spirited woman under all the fancy clothes." to Winter.

Catching the wave, D'mer is quick to follow after L'yan, hastily making his way through those not seated already. Its mostly elbows that get the greenrider from point A to point B, considering his lack of height and unwillingness to make a scene. Managing to reach his destination, the small blond settles into a seat beside the scarred Weyrlingmaster, giving Winter a very grateful expression. Sh'drian? Where?

Jerimian scans the room carefully as he sits. His eyes settle on the young woman as she makes her grand entrance, giving her a sweep from head to toe then nods his approval. Once again, he speaks in a low but firm tone to his steward, Sherisk. " ..respect ... thread." As the older man reluctantly settles back in his chair and stops boring holes into the back of Sh'drian's head with his spiteful gaze, the young Holder relaxes as well, nodding a greeting to a passing rider.

P'nell shifts uncomfortably in his seat, being one of the few southern people in the area. Though, a familiar face gets Nell's gaze and he offers a wave to Zora, trying to get her attention. Though, the rider stays quiet, trying /not/ to distrub the cermonies.

Kadriya too looks at the Harper as she nears the dais, and Grayden's reassuring smile. Her hand unclenches, smoothes at the little wrinkle made in her skirt as she pauses, awaits her own instructions.

Lowell chuckles gently at Henslee, nodding just once to the man before bowing low to a passing craftmaster, smiling with a gentle polite greeting. "I do hope so," he responds in a near whisper to the harper, though his posture gives no indicant of this lack of confidence. As Henslee requests for others to sit, the baker takes a few steps back, passing a gaze along the tables and pointing a baker along, now silent as he stands near the entrance to the kitchen.

Winter smiles sweetly to Sh'drian, but doesn't say anything as the proceedings seem ready to... proceed. However, her expression contains a muted challenge to the Weyrleader to act his age and not his shoe size, but it's very very subtle in deference to the occasion. Looking away from Sh'drian, Winter's gaze falls on the bride, and she gives a nod of respect to the Lady Holder she's known of for some time, then casts a spectulative look at her groom-to-be, keeping her face otherwise impassive and neutral. A brief glance ensures she's aware that L'yan and D'mer are present and accounted for.

Henslee smiles at Kadriya as she approches the dias, and wordlessly he gestures for her to take the spot at which she should stand. "We here today, have gathered as witnesses. Witnesses of a time honored arrangment, a marrage between two people, who shall make a vow to each other. A vow that shall be symbolized with an exchange. As such is the way our ancestors have done before us, these two people shall do today." He gestures to Grayden indicating that he should recite his vow first.

Tarianel heads in from the entrance hall, passing a moment at the entrance to remove her gloves, helmet and flight jacket, which are then given to one of the attendants with a smile for his diligence. Hands go into pockets, seems she hasn't managed a dress for the occasion but her boots have been shined and her hair styled - somewhat if you considered it's been mussed by a flying helmet. There's a few people that she wanders past, Lord Holders, Holders and she nods to each, greeting them by name and sometimes bestoying a kiss on a cheek or two, as she makes her way to stand at one side.

Sh'drian isn't looking at Winter, so he misses that look. But he has to know it's coming, anyway. Folding his arms over his chest, he fixes his eyes on Kadriya, quirking a brow as he appraises her appearance and finally nods in approval. He settles in to listen to the ceremony idly, his expression growing blank.

L'yan settles himself in his chair, and while he doesn't slump like Sh'drian, as soon as D'mer is by his side, he starts fidgetting. First the heck of his leather jerkin, then his ring, then his necklace, the brownrider seems patently incapable of holding still at such an occasion. He heaves a sigh of relief when the proceedings finally start, glancing up at Henslee, then goes back to fidgetting.

Now settled into a seat and not feeling quite so out of place, like a fish in the desert, D'mer turns his head as others do and cants his head to the side as he beholds the bride. Hands clasped loosely in his lap, the greenrider looks the young woman up and down from head to toe, expression falling to one of no opinion. His thoughts on what he sees his own and apparently private. A moment later his head turns again, flicking his unjudgemental eyes upon her husband-to-be. Again, there is nothing to denote what the small man thinks, if anything at all, but forward where the ceremony will take place is where his attention remains. However, this doesn't stop him from reaching over to put a stilling, and hopefully calming hand upon one of his fidgeting weyrmate's, all without looking sideways him.

Fiora slips in quietly, not wanting to disturb the proceedings. She's wearing the dress she wore for Southern's hatching, a greyish-purple with black bodice. She gazes around in awe at everyone all festive, then pays attention to the ceremony.

Taking from a pouch on his belt the traditional golden marriage mark, Grayden formally offers this to Kadriya. "I Grayden, of Ista Hold, do formally request that you, Kadriya, of Seminole Hold, do accept this mark as a token of my vow to you. I vow to forever protect you and this Hold with all my being and everything I have to offer. I request that you become my Lady Holder, and my wife, the mother of my issue, and honored before all others in Seminole."

Jerimian allows the barest of amused smiles to cross his features as he watches L'yan fidget as he sits in the row ahead of him. He leans over and chuckles. "I'm well used to having to be in such attire but buck up, I can reassure you that a few moments of discomfort in such formal setting will be well spent once you partake of the feast. Seminole is known for providing well for its guests." He hushes as the vows begin.

Winter apparently can't trust L'yan not to yelp out something in public if she stomps on /his/ toe, so she does her best with a calming hand on the other side of the poor brownrider, like a child would have to have his hands held by mummy and daddy. As Grayden speaks, she remains otherwise still, and a slight smile appears on her face after a few moments. If she's spotted Tarianel's arrival, she doesn't show it.

P'nell quiets slightly as the vows are spoken, bittig absently on his lower lip as he fidgets slightly in his spot. Tarianel's arrival gets a quick look but since the proceedings are now taking place, the rider only offers a silent nod before turning his attention forward again.

At the formal wording of Grayden's vow, Sh'drian rolls his eyes and mouths, 'Issue. Who says "issue"?'. But at least he's silent, and still watching, certainly an accomplishment in itself. Cutting his eyes sideways at Winter's movement, he arches a brow and allows himself a slight smirk. At least he's not the only one posing difficulties for her.

L'yan perks up as D'mer puts a hand on his to stop the fidgeting, then glances over in surprise as Winter tries to do the same. His puzzlement is replaced with joy as Jerimian mutters to him from behind. "There's going to be food? Yes!" he whispers back. Even as he does this and actually starts paying attention to the ceremony, though, his leg nearest Winter starts jiggling, up and down and up and down.

Fiora tries to watch the ceremony, and actually hears a few words from way in the back, but is distracted by fidgeting out of the corner of her eye. Once she's glanced over and satisfied herself that it's not something that's going to get out of hand, though, she sighs and turns her attention back to the front. What she can see of it, anyway, although with the view obstructed, she starts looking around at all the folks, hoping to spot someone she knows.

D'mer soon slides his eyes away from the vows to peek over at L'yan when the brownrider's leg starts jiggling, and if looks could kill, the Weyrlingmaster would be in a world of hurt. With a tightening of his jaw, the greenrider grips his weyrmate's hand firmer, silently mouthing: "Sit still!" with a crinkle of his brow. After this is done, back his gaze goes to the couple joining together in marriage.

Tarianel stands between two men, both wearing a Rubicon River knot, one greying, one younger, not much so than the Weyrwoman herself. At the exchange of vows an elbowed comment is exchanged between the her and the younger man, the older giving them both a stern look. At that they smile and return their attention to the vows.

Lowell smiles very softly at the murmurs of excitement throughout the crowd, the look on his face growing only warmer as Grayden speaks his vows to his bride to be, casting a glance over to a fellow baker with a nod of approval. He shuffles over a couple steps and shifts over the flowers just a bit to make it look that much more nice. A point to a baker is followed by a wiping gesture for a cloth, but Lowell remains otherwise silent, focus dancing between holders and food.

Ilyan stands with a small contigent from the Crafthall. The Master healer has a wide smile. It seems the healer likes happy occasions. Lowell gets a curious glance that quickly passes as he returns his attention to the couple.

Kadriya holds out her hands for the Mark, her fingers settling on the curve of Grayden's palm, fluttering softly. Her dark gaze is downcast, resting on the circle itself as he speaks. She lifts her gaze, her hand shifting to accept the offered Mark. Lips curve into a soft smile when it is her turn to speak, her voice rising above the din of the guests' chatter. "I, Kadriya of Seminole Hold do accept this mark as a token of my vow to you. To stand by your side as Lady Holder, holder of your household." she swallows gently, her gaze lifting up as far as a blue clad arm, fingers hesitating on the gold mark, "And mother of your issue."

Winter doesn't bother with Shad and his sulky-teenager act. L'yan's leg-jiggling is met with a firm foot placed on top of his, pressing down in an attempt to get him to behave and stop acting like a hyperactive child. For a brief moment, she looks up at the ceiling with a classic 'why me?' expression before she schools it into something more appropriate for the occasion. Meanwhile, the Weyrwoman's fingernails can be felt on the hand she's grabbing, like a feline making its claws known but not yet clawing for real: a warning. And her poker face remains, other than that one lapse. Her eyes fall on Master Ilyan, and she gives the healer a nod of respect if he looks her way. When Kadriya speaks, she once more remains perfectly still, other than her head tilting slightly to the side to better listen.

Sherisk's mutter about riders being all stomach and no use is met with a sharp rebuke by his Holder and Jerimian clears his throat, once again listening carefully to the ancient vows, nodding his approval as the ritual is played out, his arms crossed over his chest as he has his own woes with the surly steward. Only a twitch of his cheek speaks of his annoyance with the man.

Henslee smiles at the couple, and takes his cue with a step forward, so that he is standing next to the couple. "No duty is ever done. For time continues on forever. Through the turns, we have seen plenty. We've enjoyed some good times, and suffered through some bad times. We've struggled to over come everything that has befallen this world. So here we are today, joined together to witness an occasion that calls for joy, and peace." Henslee gestures to the Lord and Lady. "We have come here to witness these two people uniting themselves together. Crossing the distance that spans not just land and sea, but hearts, and every kind of difference. They have given a vow to each other, in front of all that have witnessed it here today." He nods slowly to the crowd. "So, in honor of the exchange of vows, and tokens that show to the rest of us what these two people already know, let us raise our glasses in a toast." He takes a wine glass that is handed to him by a young Harper apprentice, and raises it toward the couple. "Lord Grayden, Lady Kadriya, by your spoken words we have heard what is in your hearts, by the exchange of the token we have seen your pledge to each other, allowing yourselves to be bonded together for life, through every kind of trial, and for every season. We now honor your new lives together with this toast. May you forever have peace, love, and prosperity."

As L'yan is pinned and gently clawed, Winter gets another astonished look from the brownrider and he completely misses the similar message from D'mer. At this point, though, he doesn't have much left to fidget, and with another sigh, he turns his attention back to the ceremony.

With all the unrest going on in the seat beside him, D'mer has stiffened in his chair, but as soon as there is no more fidgeting, he relaxes all at once. Exhaling a soundless sigh, he lets himself get into what is happening at the front, as if confident that he won't have to discipline anyone else.

Grayden gives Kadriya another smile, covering her hand on his arm with his own. He leans closer to murmur something for her only before acknowledging the toast with another nod. He then gently prompts Lady Kadriya to turn to face the assemblage as they ought, to witness all those who raise their glasses to their union.

Grayden mutters to Kadriya, "The... is over now."

Fiora can't help but wipe away tears. Fortunately, she remembered a handkerchief this time, so she does't have to wipe with her sleeve. At the harper's urging, she looks around to find a glass of wine, and hurriedly toasts the couple.

Rows of people turn as serves past behind them, offering them glasses if they do not already have them, and as glasses are gained, they are raised, "To a prosperous Hold" call out some.

Sh'drian mostly ignores Winter, even though some part of his mind is noting her struggles to control L'yan. He murmurs again to her, offering a helpful suggestion, "Maybe you should give him a spanking later." He arches a brow pointedly; then, catching the harper's words, he quickly joins the toast.

Ilyan raises his glass filled with the rather intoxicating cocktail dihydrogen oxide. He adds his own voice to those present, "To a prosperous Hold."

P'nell grabs a glass of wine lifting it up to the couple in a toast, "To a prosperous hold." He murmers quietly, offering a slight smile.

Kadriya turns at that little urging, her hand squeezing the arm it has come to lie against, her lips curved into a warm smile that brightens at the whisper. She nods gently, taking her own glass from the hovering Harpers, standing still as the assemblage calls out their agreement to the Harper's toast.

Tarianel takes a glass as the server offers the trio a glass of wine each - as one the Lord Holder and heir of Rubicon and Tarianel raises their classes, nodding their heads slowly in acknowledgment of the rites that have just passed. "To the prosperity of your Hold" she calls out, grinning at Kadriya mostly.

Lowell casts a brief smile and a subtle wave of acknowledgement as Ilyan glances his way, looking his very best to appear cool and collected. Him? Stress over a little thing like a wedding banquet? Of course not. Right after the harper begins to speak, Lowell turns back to him, inhaling deeply and holding it with a gentle smile, almost bright. He snatches a glass from a nearby server, words gleeful but not too loud as he holds the glass high. "To a prosperous hold!"

Winter is one of the numbers of people calling out, "Heard and witnessed!", raising the glass she's offered. Then, after quaffing a moderate portion of the wine, she gives Sh'drian a thoroughly filthy look. "To a prosperous Hold!" she then adds in a brighter tone, echoing other toasts.

If L'yan is allowed to free one of his hands from his keepers, he'll raise a glass to join the toast. Otherwise, he'll just sit there, looking more than a little sheepish.

D'mer scoops up a glass of passing wine, eyeing it for but a moment before he lifts it up to toast the newly joined pair. He doesn't say anything however, because he's too busy shooting Sh'drian a nasty look, apparently having overheard. The hand on L'yan's is retracted, slipping under the greenrider's opposite arm, glass still upraised.

Jerimian raises his glass and joins in the cheer, then takes a sip after giving the wine a careful, critical perusal. A knowing glance goes between the holder and his steward as they both inspect the wine offered, then a smug look crosses Jerimian's face. "Not bad, not bad at all, all things considering."

Fiora lets out a little "huzzah!", as was done at her family's hold during the weddings she remembers, then follows, louder, with the traditional, "To a prosperous Hold!" She takes a little sip and smiles to herself, then casts a glance around to see what everyone else is doing.

Henslee nods with satisfaction to the unified toast from the audience, stealing a glance back at Grayden and Kadriya with a flash of a warm smile. He waits for the sounds to die down before he inhales, turning back to the crowd assembled before him, and proposes the completion. "I now pronounce you Lord Grayden and Lady Kadriya of Seminole Hold. You may now kiss the bride." As though there is no more to say, Henslee nods softly, and turns to the newly married couple, nodding slowly as a gesture for Grayden to do just that.

Impervious to filthy looks by now, Sh'drian doesn't respond to Winter's look except with a mild shrug that says clearly 'I was only trying to help'. Then, he tips back his glass and takes a large swig, smirking.

Grayden accepts his own glass with a grin for the server, sipping at the wine it contains once all the cheers have been registered and more people are drinking than talking. The glass is soon removed from his hand as the final public display is authorized, with an almost apologetic look, the new Lord Holder of Seminole leans in to kiss the Lady Holder in a rather chaste manner.

P'nell takes a quick swig from his glass, wrinkling his nose ever so slightly as he does so. "It's not that bad..." Nell murmers to himself, casting a curious look to the surrounding manner.

Fiora sniffles again, then wipes her nose and stuffs her hanky in her sleeve. She looks around and thinks she sees P'nell, and maybe Tarianel, in the crowd, but it's hard to be sure. She gives a little wave anyway, in case it's them.

L'yan takes another sip of wine after the toast. He raises his eyebrows at Lord Grayden's kiss for his Lady, then leans in D'mer's direction and mutters, "That's no kiss." Then, Winter gets a fearful glance and he sits up straight again, trying, and failing, to look innocent.

Kadriya swallows a portion of her own glass of wine, and then a little more as the toasts end, giving it up almost reluctantly to the hands that take it from her. Her other hand clenches around the coin, tight enough to turn dark skin a little pale at the edges when the harper urges that final public seal. She turns her head, dark eyes meeting light, and returns that chaste little kiss with a silent thanks that bronzed cheeks will hide a blush from any but the Harper and the Lord HOlder himself.

D'mer decidedly does not take a sip of the wine in his glass, lowering it as the sounds of praise and cheer fall and fade away. Returning his attention to the front, he arches a brow at the chasteness of the kiss, even as his eyes unfocus, Coughing a bit, the greenrider shifts a bit in his chair, sliding his eyes back to L'yan and nodding, his gaze twinkling back into normalicy. "Give them time. They'll learn." he leans over to murmur back, and then quickly straightens. Maybe no one noticed that.

Winter doesn't give L'yan a dirty look, but she does elbow him lightly enough to get the point across without causing a public scene. By now, the stress of dealing with her two fellow riders is enough to make her polite smile turn into something frozen, for appearances only, and there is a slight crinkling around her brows, a narrowing of her eyes, that might forebode /some/ kind of tongue-lashing once they get home.

"That was a rather... disappointing end," Sh'drian notes under his breath as Grayden kisses Kadriya. "You'd think he'd make it more worthwhile." But he shrugs and swirls the remaining wine in his glass a moment before finishing it off and glancing around, as if to say, 'Is it over now?'

Dragon> Alaemyth bespoke Eadranth and Vorsanth with << Winter would like to see your two... hooligans?... when we get back to the Weyr. >>

Eadranth> Alaemyth and Vorsanth sense that Eadranth seems bemused more than anything. << Hooligans? Well, all right, then, >> he agrees mildly.

Dragon> Alaemyth and Eadranth sense that Vorsanth sounds surprised, but amenable. << As you wish, Alaemyth. >>

Not a flicker of disapproval crosses Henslee's face, and he nods softly, closing his eyes for just a moment. "Very good," he whispers quite softly to the two newlyweds after their kiss, gesturing to one of the exits of the hall with a sweeping hand. "If you would follow me to sign the records, Lady, Lord?" he requests politely of the two, following through with that gesture to step his way off stage, movements comfortable and unhurried as though unaware - or at least accepting - of the eyes of so many upon him.

Ilyan smiles at the conclusion of the ceremony. The healer places his empty glass on a tray being carried by a passing server. He then drifts through the crowd, stopping briefly to talk to some people.

Fiora glances around again to see what's going on. She'll follow the crowd, wherever they go, since this is the first wedding she's been to as a grownup. But she wipes her eyes again in the meantime, and takes another sip of wine, feeling a little alone.

Kadriya nods, patting the arm she has linked into awkardly, after finally tucking the mark into a fold of her dress. She turns then, to follow after the Harper, leaning in to murmur softly to the new Lord Holder.

Grayden is quick to escort his new Lady in the wake of Henslee, though he does pause a few steps off the dias. "Please, everyone...while we're off signing records for prosperity, I invite you all to enjoy the feast prepared by MasterBaker Lowell himself," he calls out to the assembly before he continues to walks towards the records room down the hall.

Kadriya mutters to Grayden, "... they like..."

Lowell inhales just a bit as the actual union draws to a close, frowning very gently at some internal thought. Upon Grayden's words, the MasterBaker turns his look into a purely comfortable smile, slowly gesturing to the tables by his side. He shoots a glance down the tables as a gesture for Near the baker craftsmen and women of all ages to now lift the lids off of the numerous food containers, the steam from the warmed dishes bursting free. The inviting aroma quickly becomes noticeable even over the strongest perfume, and the feast becomes only more enticing upon sight. Meat and seafood are in terrific abundance porcine, ovine, fingertails, even some chicken and geese servings, a rare treat. The vegetable and nut platters are even more varied, as colorful to the ends as the fruits and nuts down by the far end. Candles, vases, and other modest decorations are in handsome supply, adding a gentle touch to the feast. Drinks include, but are not limited to, wine, juices, water, and klah of a fairly good quality. Cakes, pastries, and even a few bubblies mark up the desert table, though a stern, rather old baker woman makes certain nobody steals off with desert before eating a full meal.

At the Lord Holder's pronouncement, the musicians move to the dias and begin to set up. Shortly thereafter, the light strains of elegant dining music fills the room.

Henslee pauses only just long enough to watch his MasterBaker friend reveal the night's feast before he continues his trek down toward the records room, only briefly glancing behind him to see that Grayden is following as he does.

Jerimian, for one, was not the least surprised at the chasteness of the obligatory sign of affection between the newlyweds but his expression clouds over as he gazes upon the two, now joined in legal agreement, shaking his head slightly in empathic sympathy. Once the couple retreat to sign the formalities, he rises, bending over to sternly warn his companion that any behavior that reflexes negative of their Hold will not be tolerated. Unpleasntries taken care of, he gazes about, then heads in the direction of Winter and Sh'drian. "Weyrwoman, Weyrleader, wonderful occasion, don't you think? Two fine holds joining together, can't help but bring prosperity to our region."

Waiting for people starting to get up and move around, D'mer does the same, stretching a bit in the wake of having to sit still. But unlike some people, managed to do so. The announcement of food prepared by the MasterBaker, he practically starts to salivate. "No watered-down stew. Food....real...food..." the oldtimer murmurs to utterly to himself, very quietly indeed. Still clutching that glass of wine he hasn't touched, his feet start to carry him towards the prepared feast, his blank expression melting into one of absolute love.

Tarianel glances around, somewhat nervously, but then shrugs, leans up to give the older man a kiss on the cheek and heads towards the food. Not surprisingly there are other Southern folks here. She gives a smile to Lowell, "MasterBaker" she adds with a nod, "I see you've outsurpassed yourself on this occasion. A wonderful spread."

P'nell pushes himself to his feet, grinning quite widely now that the formality of the occasion has been dropped. He meanders through the crowd, his first priority being food and his rumbling stomach sniffing at the air. "Oh it smells so good," The rider practically croons to himself, grabbing a plate to help himself. "Will certainly be an improvement's food for sure..." His eyes drift over the tables, as if trying to decide what looks best.

Winter murmurs to her two colleagues, "Do try not to inhale it all yourselves," all sotto voce. She sniffs appreciatively at the smells wafting their way, a bit of relief on her face because /someone/ near them had plied on the sweet oils before arriving. As Jerimian approaches, she smiles and quickly releases L'yan's hand as if she wasn't just doing that, no. "I certainly hope so," the Weyrwoman affirms to the other. "For their prosperity helps our own and so on..."

"Well, that was... interesting," Sh'drian finally decides, nodding. As Kadriya and Grayden exit, Sh'drian turns to the food. Before he can, however, Jerimian intercepts him. With a long-suffering expression, Sh'drian turns to the holder, arching a brow. "Yes, wonderful," he answers less than enthusiastically, eyes trailing back toward the food. He's already edging that way, attempting to leave Winter the task of schmoozing with the holders.

Fiora, figuring everyone is heading toward the food that's making her mouth water with its delectable smells, follows the crowd, although she's still looking around for someone to talk to as she walks. Hopefully she won't bump into anyone literally.

As soon as he's released, L'yan bounces to his feet. "Real food. And I don't think they'll restrict us to one plate. Come on!" he urges his weyrmate. With that, he hurries over in the direction of the food, though if he can, he'll snatch D'mer's hand to drag the greenrider along with him through the crowd.

Jerimian arches a brow at the rude Weyrleader but shoots a warning preemptive glare at his Steward before the older man can start to complain. "I would hate to delay you in partaking upon the feast that our dear Masterbaker has set before us, please, Sh'drian. After all, this is a joyous occasion." He nods gallantly to the Ierne Weyrwoman and offers. "Would you trust me to set a plate for you, ma'am?" He moves gracefully, barely avoiding Fiora as she walks nearby.

Lowell can't help but laugh - though politely, not too loud - as D'mer mumbles to himself, gesturing toward the table as the greenrider passes. "Aye, try the stew with some of the thick bread down near the end, my friend, you will thank me later." He glances up as Tarianel approaches, nodding gently and with just the perfect hesitation to make it polite, "Weyrwoman. I thank you kindly, and would be only more grateful if you could say the same after you try some. The geese in particular is nice tonight," he adds a little quieter, as though it's a bit of a mock secret.

His hand certainly snatched up, D'mer blinks once and looks to the body connected to it, relaxing quite visibly upon seeing who in fact it is. As if he might have expected someone else to be grabbing him? "You don't have to tell me twice!" he calls to the brownrider, clasping that hand around his own firmly. "Yes Weyrwoman!" the greenrider tosses over his should with a giggle of his female's voice, having heard her warning.

Tarianel grins at Lowell, "I'll certainly let you know once I'm done testing" she adds, as she steps forward, grabs a plate and starts piling up a healthy portion of food. A smile is sent to P'nell as she notices him in line also, and then she moves further down the table, picking up a glass of wine to accompany her meal.

Winter beams winningly up to Jerimian. "I would most certainly trust you to do so," she responds, seeming to be much more relieved now that the two children seem to have scarpered, as if she's now free of responsibility for their behavior. "It all smells quite delicious..." Eagerly, she allows herself to be escorted to the tables.

P'nell offers Tarianel a greeting wave, "So you did make it," he says conversationally, finally grabbing a plate as he grabs a few things. "How many marks you want to bed that we won't touch the food at Southern after we eat here? Everything smells so good..." Nell says in an eager manner, licking at his lips. "I'll actually get to /taste/ food again."

Sh'drian glares at L'yan's back as the weyrlingmaster flees, and reluctantly the Weyrleader turns back to the holder before him. "Weyrleader. Weyrleader Sh'drian," he corrects Jerimian stiffly, giving the holder a mistrustful look in return for the gesture of familiarity. "Excuse me." With that, he turns and exits, heading toward the food. There, he piles himself up a plate with various things--avoiding all manner of fish in the process--and finishes the meal off with a glass of wine.

In not too long a time, Grayden and Kadriya return, murmuring yet again to each other. They then split up, each move towards some of the guests, to begin greeting them properly. Grayden himself makes a beeline towards the Ierne Weyrwoman and Weyrleader, though it's Lord Jerimian who gets the first friendly smile. "Thank you all for attending today," is his opening to those persons. "I am glad you all could come."

Fiora dutifully stands in line, just listening to all the conversations around her. She smiles and nods to folks she knows by sight, but doesn't chat with any of them for long. The line is moving rather quickly, and when she gets up to the table, she ends up taking a little bit of everything, and a chunk of bread. She grabs whatever's available for drinking, and finds herself a seat without worrying about who she's sitting by.

Jerimian's smile almost reaches his eyes as he responds to the Weyrwoman but that smile is replaced by an icy polite nod to the Weyrleader. "Weyrleader, then, it shall be, my pardon, sir." Dismissing the little snot with a measuring stare, he smiles once again to Winter. "Well then, shall we?" Although he can't help but stare at some of the loaded plates coming back from the tables, carried by Weyrfolk, he politely murmurs his way through the throng, making sure, to the best of his ability that Winter is not far behind. He begins to pick the choicest of fruits, salads and meats, artfully arranging them on the plate. "

L'yan releases D'mer once they reach the table. For a moment after grabbing his plate, he pauses, closing his eyes and just inhaling deeply the wonderful scents of the feast. Then he begins piling food on his plate, indiscriminately taking some of each dish and letting it all run together as the only way of being sure to get a taste of everything on this first plate.

There is some bustling and shifting up on the musicians' dais as another percussionist joins the group already performing. After a brief conference to settle on a piece, the first guitarist begins to tap out a quick rhythm, one that is quickly picked up by the rest of the musicians, before they all launch into a dance tune heavily flavoured by percussion and brass.

Lowell doesn't seem about to refuse Tarianel's kind words, and he quietly replies, "I would appreciate that, Weyrwoman." And he nods slowly for her to continue down the line. A bright smile is cast upon P'nell for his words, noting to the bluerider, "Try the porcine, if you are looking for taste. We spiced it." His little secret to Varanth's rider. A few more good evenings and some polite nods later, Lowell's green eyes stray toward Ierne's Weyrleader filling up a plate, calling, "Sh'drian, yes? Try the packtails, they're wonderful, I assure you!"

"I say we kidnap that MasterBaker Lowell." D'mer says to L'yan after his hand is let go and he can pick up a plate and start to load it up, trying not to drool on himself or the dishes displayed. He peeks over his shoulder at the man in question and looks him over decidedly. "You hold him and I'll tie him up." He sounds only half joking at this point.

Kelara makes her way into the hall. Pausing near the door she smoothes out her dress, checking that it is still freshly cleaned. Fingers then move over her hair, checking it. A stay peice of straw is found that she quickly discards in a corner berfore moving into the crowd.

Winter notes just how far Lord Jerimian's smile went, but doesn't comment or otherwise react to it. However, when she sees how greedy some of her own people are being, she puts on her mummy's bonnet again long enough to direct some 'shame on you' looks toward some of the worst offenders, flicking her eyes to some of the more courteous guests as an example of proper behavior. Her frozen smile thins a little, her nostrils widening slightly as she begins taking note of who's being a porcine or not. "Thank you for your kindness, sir," she offers to Jerimian as he helps her through the crowd. "Although it's not usually the way I barge through queues like this," she adds with a slight grim observation.

Henslee follows the new Lord and Lady holder shortly, talking with one of the younger journeyman present. The discussion is brief but the younger harper heads off and Henslee heads over to join Lowell, after refilling his glass with some more wine. He takes a brief moment to observe the spread on the table, and steps up next to the Masterbaker. "Well now, You've really outdone yourself this evening, quite befitting the occasion." The old Harper says approvingly.

P'nell turns slightly to Lowell, tilting his head to the side, "Oh, don't mind if I do, sir. Thank you, "Sheer delight fills the rider's face as he places some of the meat, "I'm never want to go back to southern's food after this. "Is the quiet whine as a glass is grabbed for himself. Food now gathered, he makes his way to the seat he had been occupying before, settling in easily as he starts to nibble on some of his food. Contenting himself with a quiet "Mmmm," Of approval.

Sh'drian glances sideways at Jerimian again, frowning at his continued discussion with Winter; but he focuses instead on the plate he's filled. He turns to give Lowell a measured look, then shakes his head. "I don't like fish," he protests, giving the offending dish a Look. He backs away and glances about for a seat now.

Jerimian smiles apologetically to Winter, again, that smile not quite passing as genuine and places the meat fork down on its platter as he calls back to the Lord. "Uppsala wishes you both the best, Lord Graydon and Lady Kadriya. If there is anything we can do to be of service to you as you begin this new phase of your holding's union, please, do not fail to call upon us?" Once again, he shoots a warning look at his Steward, cutting off any snide comments forthcoming. He once again begins to serve Winter a goodly portion of the choicest of the offerings, then holds the plate out for her inspection. "I hope to your liking? And you are an honoured guest and I am sure the young men here would not dream of taking opportunity in seeing you go without, in order that the receive their gain?" He tsks as a rider from Monaco traipses past with plate piled so high that the cherry on top of his mashed tubers wobbles with each step.

The MasterBaker Lowell chuckles softly, his face warm with delight as P'nell expresses his happiness with the food, some of his inner anxiety set aside. "Ah, Harper," he replies to the elder one, his voice slightly more amiable around Henslee. "I say the same to you. You spoke beautifully, even more eloquently than usual. I saw a number of our guests moved to tears," he adds, eyebrows lifting faintly as though this is a great honor. He now passes a gaze over the tables, stopping for just a moment upon D'mer. Apparently, the MasterBaker is too far away to hear the words, for he smiles at the greenrider, mouthing, 'All is well with the food?' to him. A flicker of a glance to Sh'drian, but nothing more.

Alina has been here, one among the crowd, remarkably quiet even for her--then again a ceremony is something the greenrider can and does respect. Now that ceremony has given way to feast, she's stepped just as quietly into line with everyone else. She seems intent on avoiding treading on the heels of the guest in front of her, so likely won't speak unless someone notices her.

Kelara moves throu the crowd, offering a friendly smile to a few familiar faces. Fiding her self at the serving table she pours a glass of wine, taking a well needed sip before waving to a few others.

Ilyan finally gets around to helping his self to some of the Bakercraft's finest offerings. A polite nod to MasterBaker Lowell, should he still be looking anxiously at the buffet. Placing a modest amount of delectables on his plate, he then looks around and realizes the pitfall to his plan of waiting for the line to die down. Where to sit?

L'yan is completely focused on filling his plate and thus totally misses Winter's Look. Yet another thing he's no doubt going to hear about later. Finally, though, with samples of most of the dishes from the main courses, he lives the serving table. To give him credit, his plate isn't as stuffed as the Monaco rider's, but it is quite the haul of food which he immediately begins devouring.

Zora sits quietly in her seat for sometime. Being so many faces, the woman looks almost unsure of her next move. Another few minutes, and she'll rise to fix a plate, finding herself following behind Alina. She'll smile and greet her friend. "Evening Alina." She offers and picks up a plate.

Grayden inclines his head to acknowledge Jerimian's offer, though he's soon distracted by greeting Lord Byn of Great Bay Hold.

Fiora is savoring every bite of her food, although she notices Alina and gives her a little wave, and Zora behind her. She's going slowly to enjoy it all, although some of her tablemates are eating like this is the only meal they'll see this month. She sits back to watch the crowd, enjoying the pomp and circumstance.

Finding himself an empty seat near Zora, Sh'drian settles into it and sets his plate and his glass out in front of him. "Much better," he remarks, giving the plate a smirk. He takes his first bite with relish, smirk broadening; several more follow in quick succession before he chances a glimpse around at his table companions. "Evening," he offers Zora, shortly after she hails Alina.

The unfamiliar voice directed at him causes D'mer to startle and instantly beings an embarrassed flush to his otherwise pale cheeks. Does he know that the MasterBaker is too far away to hear before? Looks like he thinks the older man overheard him. Silently he bobs his head and drops his gaze, slinking off to a corner to start to dig into own plate.

Kadriya makes her way in a slow circle around the periphery of the Hall, greeting and shaking hands with the various dignitaries, and those of personal import to the Lady, quietly accepting congratulations with demure smiles, occasional glances to see where her newly betrothed is in the morass.

P'nell looks absolutely delighted as he slowly eats his food, as if trying to savor the moment. "This is so good." P'nell manages through a mouthfull of food, leaning back in his seat to content himself with just eating.

Beside the dance floor, a rather nervous looking young fellow dressed in his best gather clothes sits, watching the dancers with keenly envious eyes. He sighs softly every now and then as the swishing of skirts and tapping of feet swirl by.

Winter takes the plate from Jerimian, nodding respectfully to the newlyweds as they approach their position. Although many of the seating is filling up, she does locate a suitable position for herself and the Lord who's made himself her escort for the meal. "Perhaps here?" she suggests, gesturing with a hand to the table in question. "Before someone else absconds with it?"

Henslee nods to Lowell. "I wouldn't say more eloquently then usual, but this isn't the usual occasion either, I've not had the pleasure of a wedding in quite some time." He notes with a nod, and takes a seat at the table just a slight ways down the row after selecting a few things for a plate to enjoy for the evening.

Grayden continues his greetings, only to find himself near the Healer Master who appears to be looking for a seat. Striding up to the man, he offers, "I'll show you towards a free see, Master, if I could beg a moment of your time?" The smile on his face, however, seems to belie his 'begging' question.

Jerimian makes sure Winter is well settled, providing wine within her reach before he nods, casting his gaze on the buffet. "I think you choose wisely, ma'am. I shall return with a plate of my own hopefully to find a seat nearby if some other enter prizing fellow doesn't take advantage of my leave."

Alina has just reached the serving table herself when Zora hails her, and once she's collected a plate and turned around waving is quite impossible, for obvious reasons. She settles for an answering "Heyla, Zora." And then is searching for a seat. When one is found, it's near a familiar face: fiora. "Heyla fiora too, care if I join you?" Lina is still quieter than usual, she too seems to be enjoying the night's events.

Lowell blinks with confusion as D'mer slips off to a corner, his face scrunching up in confusion as he fails to understand. "... Well, I suppose one unsatisfied guest is not so bad," Lowell mumbles in aside to Henslee, his chuckles polite and nearly humorless. "Oh, do try the ovine if you get some food," he adds as Henslee starts to escape, letting off just the faintest sigh, expressing a very good-natured exhaustion. "Oh, ah, watch the bread, Jeria," he calls of one of the bakers, pointing to one of the nearly-emptied plates near the end.

Kelara makes her way around the room and finds some Southern riders. She curteies to Zora and Alina. "Welcome to Seminole. I am so glad you could come. Is everything ok? Can I get you anything?"

Kadriya wends her way away from a gathering of lesser holders' wives, her cheeks and eyes bright from the comments of those women, her hands smoothing down broad skirts. She spies the familiar countenance of Kelara, and waves to the girl in a rare display of unHolderlike mannerisms, before seeing that she is busy being a good, entertaining resident. The Lady moves then to the Master Baker, pausing a moment as he shouts out orders to th servers.

Ilyan inclines his head to Grayden, the picture of politeness, "Indeed, Lord Grayden. How could I possibly refuse such an invitation? And you certainly have no need to beg of my time." He echoes Grayden's smile with one of his own.

Fiora smiles up at Alina and nods, swallowing her mouthful. "Please do. I haven't seen you much lately? How are you?" She takes a sip of her drink, which turns out to be wine, and smiles, her eyes darting to the dance floor for a moment, whether because she wants to be there or because her attention is captured by the light, the movement, the flash of ornamentation... could be either. But she turns back to Alina and gestures at an empty seat, one of the few left at the table.

P'nell turns slightly as a few entering faces catch his attention, "Lina!" he calls, offering a wave in greeting. But that's the most that Nell says, being fairly subdued by the sheer amount of unfamiliar and familiar faces. Every now and then the rider will shift uncomfortably in his spot, looking quite content to sit in his seat, eating his food with obvious enjoyment.

No sooner has Zora taken a seat then she finds Sh'drian sitting close by. She'll nod to him and provide a polite "Evening." in return with the barest smile. Even Alina only get a small smile. The greenrider it seems is not in the best of moods, no matter how beautiful the ceremony. "Thank you, but no, I'm fine." She offers to Kelara in responce to the offer, which is indeed the most the woman has said all evening.

D'mer finds a nice place to sit, surprisingly in fact, considering how rapidly the seats are filling up. He looks between the wine he has in one hand and to the plate full of yummy morsels in the other. He decides in the end to down the entire contents of the fluted glass, swallowing it down and setting the empty on a passing tray of matching items. Crossing his legs up and under him upon the seat of the chair, the blond seems satisfied to chew and people watch at the same time. Normally cold eyes are alight with curiosity and just a bit of childlike wonder.

Winter waves to some of her old friends, such as Zora and Alina, as she spots them in the crowd, waiting patiently for her companion to return, doing little more than sipping at the wine until he returns, so she can properly join him in the meal.

L'yan continues to eat single-mindedly, standing not far from serving table and totally unaware of being in the way or that he could actually sit down. He does gradually slow down as he works his way down through the layers of food on his plate as the edge of hunger is removed and he pauses long enough to sigh happily and sniff some more.

Lowell's eyes widen very faintly as he turns back from his order barking to peer right into the face of the very Lady of the night, and his slightly shocked hesitation tells all. "Lady Kadriya," he greets at last, smile broad as he bows his head low, purely respectful. "You did wonderfully. If it would please you, I could get one of the apprentices to get whatever you desire? You must be famished." He passes a gaze over the diminishing banquest tables as he does before turning back to her for her reply.