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03-02-01: Dance
As you push aside the twin tapestries to exit, the one facing the dormitory gleams sunrise colors of pale orange,...

As you push aside the twin tapestries to exit, the one facing the dormitory gleams sunrise colors of pale orange, lavender, and (to clash just a little more) yellow. As you pass into the spare high-ceilinged hall, the air freshens noticeably with the plant foliage hanging in pots all about; as an added bonus, the noise level drops as the tapestries swish shut behind you.

Hanneke steps into the hall with a moderately calm step, hesitating as she peeks about the doorway, then strides further out. She's singing--and that's enough to make anyone cringe, at the top of her lungs, and off key. Such a pretty picture.

Julen wisely remains silent, lurking by one of the green couches. He doesn't quite blend in, despite his olive green attire, but he's small enough to go unnoticed, particularly in the face of such strident singing.

"And the bovine flew over the moons!" Exuberant isn't the word. Hanneke lunges forwards, attempting a twirl--as if the hall was empty, or something. Righting herself after a minor glitch in landing, the apprentice, continues onwards, adding a new verse to her song. Julen isn't noticed. Wisely, perhaps.

Julen winces as Hanneke hits an utterly wrong, thought appropriately high, note. Perhaps he'll just scrunch down here till she's passed, then he can go back to murmuring his scales to himself.

Hanneke is most certainly a soprano. It's just a shame that a bellowing soprano who doesn't have any idea about pitch usually doesn't work so well. Alas, her dance, if that is what her odd movements can be considered, takes her closer towards that green couch, and while she doesn't see Julen, her close proximity is bound to make hiding far more difficult.

Julen's head isn't really that green-colored, anyhow. He offers a tentative smile as his fellow apprentice cavorts ever closer to his hiding place. He'd say hi, but then he might throw her further off-key

Hiding place, perhaps, no more. Hanneke, in an attempt to make a rather gracious leap, ends up, limbs tangled, at the base of the couch, her eyes only by chance catching upon a head that doesn't quite camoflauge. "Oh. Hullo!" At least the song ends--mid word.

Respite at last. "Hello," Julen returns gamely. If he doesn't mention the song, maybe he won't be forced to appraise her singing. "Are you okay?" he thus inquires in his usual helpful tone instead.

Hanneke straightens her torso, stretching legs out in front of her. "Fine! I just love to dance, don't you? Such pretty movements." Dancing is prefered to singing, perhaps. A chance at salvation.

Julen doesn't dance; a good sprint is enough for him. "I suppose. Never really learned how to, 'cept for some silly twirling and things." He leans forward to verify that she really hasn't hurt herself in her stumble. "Your dancing's a little different from what I've seen before." Different -- there's a word for all purposes.

Hanneke accepts this as a compliment. The easy solution is almost always correct, after all. "Oh, yes! I try and add a few extra jumps, and things. They make it very pretty. And twirling isn't silly. It can be a lot of fun." She rubs at her ankle, stretches it, and seems satisfied at it's state of repair, for she hoists herself up, moving to sit upon the couch itself.

Julen scootches over, adopting a cross-legged position instead. There's an unrolled scroll in his lap, though he doesn't seem to heed the fact that he's wrinkling it somewhat with his movements. "Are you practicing for something? Are we going to have a dance soon?" he wonders instead, feeling a little out of the loop.

Hanneke positively beams, settling in quite comfortably atop the couch. "No-o. At least, I don't think so. I think it would be wonderful if we did." Grandly, the apprentice continues, "I have a new dress. It would be very lovely to dance in it. So I'm practicing. Maybe if we have a concert, or something, I can dance in it." And sing? Pity the audience.

Julen will dance and she can sing, so that they can watch her and not notice any notes that he flubs. "I think we have concerts every season or so. One of the older apprentices was tellin' me that, something about a chance for the new ones to show off their stuff." It all sounds quite terrifying.

More than a little regret crosses Hanneke's face. "I bet they won't let me dance. There's nothing to perform about theory, either." Terrifying isn't the word. Exciting, perhaps. "You're doing voice though, aren't you? Lucky."

"Lucky?" Julen echoes, his facial expression suggesting the reverse reaction. "I dunno. -- Why won't they let you dance? Dancing's an art, too." Maybe not the way she does it, at present, but if she refines some of the movements, it could be.

Hanneke misses his facial reaction. She's good like that. Blithely, she explains, "Oh, yes. You'll get to get up and sing, and people will know who you are. I'll probably have to sit and watch, at best. You'll get to dress up, too, I bet." She kicks her left leg up a little, explaining, "I think so. It's not music, though, I guess. No one does dance as a specialty."

Julen thinks about that; he usually takes a few minutes to recall the details of lessons. "I guess not. Maybe it ought to be?" he suggests in his quiet way. "If you practice at the twirling and things, and learn all the dances that people do around campfires and at gathers, I mean, that's a lot of studying."

Oh dear. Hanneke's eyes light up. "That's an amazing idea! I should tell Craftmaster Allegria about it. Perhaps, rather than stick with this theory stuff, I could work on that once I'm a journeyrank. I could be the first head of Dance!" How exciting.

Hanneke as the head of anything ought to be fairly exciting. "You'd talk to her about it? Master Allegria, I mean?" Julen doesn't gulp, but he might as well. "I don't -- I mean, isn't it stuff we're not supposed to know about yet? Or think about? I think the journeymen and the masters are supposed to know what's good for the hall."

Without a doubt. A constant joy. "I would. I will." Hanneke scrunches up her nose, thinking. "Well, maybe you're right. It -is- a good idea, though, and I don't believe that good ideas should be surp-sup--put down."

Julen hasn't yet ventured a single idea to Master Allegria and isn't sure what she'd make of it. "Okay. But you'd best talk to her when she isn't busy." That pretty much removes any chance of Hanneke talking to her.

Hanneke, however, hasn't figured that out yet. "I guess. I'll send her a note--and ask for an appointment. That ought to work."

It all sounds so adult. "Good luck," Julen offers, extending his hand to her in an oddly formal manner.

Hanneke is fifteen now, after all. A big girl. The hand is given a blink, or three, then she hesitantly takes it, head cocked. "Thank you. I won't need it."

But not quite an adult yet? "Okay. Master Allegria /is/ pretty nice," Julen admits, slipping his hand back into his lap, then. "It's just that she's -- well, she's the craftmaster. Every time I look at her -- when she's giving me instructions, you know? -- I see her as the craftmaster. I can't imagine her being in love with anyone." Like any other good harper apprentice, he's heard the stories about her and the Steward of Fort Hold.

A definite child. Without a doubt. "She is. She said she'd make sure I became Master Gaelin's apprentice!" Hanneke positively beams, before adding: "Oh. I suppose you're right. I didn't think of that. She's younger than my mother." Which qualifies her for anything, apparently. "Can you imagine her doing normal things, then? Like washing? And going to bed?"

Julen shakes his head soberly. "I can't imagine her doing anything besides what she does in her office." He can only imagine her eating because he's seen her most nights in the dining hall. "But what does Master Gaelin teach?"

Hanneke nods. "Nor I. Same with the other masters. Except Master Byre." Sighing, the girl reluctantly shrugs, "Theory, I think. That's what I'm going to do." And the enthusiasm is just so great. Or something.

Julen tries to remember the details of Master Gaelin's face -- and fails. "She's the really quiet one, right? But in charge of all the apprentices or something." He hasn't had much occasion to meet her yet, despite that responsible moniker.

Don't ask Hanneke. "Dunno. Probably." Even if she has met this particular personage, she doesn't seem to remember, or draw a connection.

Julen rolls up his scroll, belatedly realizing that he's almost crushed it in half. "You don't have to be so excited 'bout having a master to report to. It just means more work." More work that he enjoys, actually, but work nevertheless. "If they forget to tap you, then you can get away with a little more free time." For dancing, perhaps?

And singing. "I suppose. It's not so bad. And theory--" she shrugs. The enthusiasm is lacking something horrible. "I'd rather do voice. Mother says, however, that I have to join her. So." She sits, for a moment, dully silent. Then: "I'm going to go write that note. G'bye!" Attention span, almost nonexistant?