Somehow the whole celebration had thawed Ridahne's usually stony, well-guarded heart and she danced readily now that she'd been convinced to get up at all. She knew more dances than she let on. And even if she didn't know the steps or the style, she caught on relatively quickly and had a general feel for rhythm, control, and grace. It was all her sword practice that helped her. In fact, one word in the Azurei language for sparring with a blade was literally translated as 'dance'. She had bodily control aplenty and so using it to move to music instead of with a blade was only a short hop. She was less familiar with the siren and human dances and had to rely on guidance and watching others, but the elvish ones, both Orosi and Eluri, she was quite adept at. But her favorites were the Azurei ones. They were somewhat aggressive in their tambour and a little bit more primal, which suited her. She felt like she could get things 'out' that way.

An Orosi man lifted her by the waist and together they did a quick spin, though as he lowered her into a dip between his knees, Ridahne slipped. She was tired at this point and couldn't keep up with a dance that required that much control. But instead of being embarrassed about it, she broke into peals of honest laughter as she was half on the floor, still clutching the hands of the Orosi man. He laughed too. And it was the first time since she'd been in Darin's company that she'd laughed wholeheartedly like that. It was the first time in months. He helped her up and she bowed to him with her hand across her chest and stepped away, panting. 

Ridahne leaned back against a support beam and looked at Darin. She gave another real, genuine laugh as she smoothed back the parts of her hair that had come out of its knot. She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. For once, things were good. And that was all either of them needed. She called for another round of the lemon-herb drink, [I]kadih[/I], and she and a group of five slapped their cups on the table and threw them back. 

The music slowed and softened, and people began to settle in. Ridahne did too, sinking back into her chair. Ravi insisted Darin play, which got Ridahne's attention quickly. Play? Ridahne hadn't realized she played anything. The human protested and even glanced to her as if for help; Ridahne smirked and shook her head slightly. [I]Oh no. You're not getting out of this one.[/I] But something about her expression was encouraging. They brought out the fiddle and Darin started to play, slowly and cautiously at first but then the notes seemed to just pour out of her. But then attention was turned on her. And Ravi asked her to sing. He wasn't wrong in his assertion that she could sing--she could, or reasonably well anyway. She was no bard, but good enough for taverns anyway. 

Ridahne's eyes went wide. She opened her mouth to refuse, to say no. To say that no, she couldn't, not on the spot like that. Not to a fiddle--she didn't know any songs to a fiddle. She didn't know what to sing, or what fitted the occasion. She couldn't remember any in her panic. Except when she drew breath and pushed it out again, what came out of her was not 'no'. The song just sort of...came. And it followed Darin's song reasonably well, or at least the tone of it if not the exact tune. Softly at first, and then her voice rose and rose until it filled the hall, rivaled only by Darin's rhythmic sawing of the fiddle. She sang in Azurian, so most didn't know what she sang about exactly, but the emotion was there all the same. She sang of grief. Of loss. Of heartbreak. She sang of love, of passion, of fire. Of defiance. Of serenity. And while she sang, Ridahne began to dance much like she had during the first Azurei dance. The stamping of her bare feet on the wood floor was like a drum and the wavering of her hands matched the rise and fall of her voice. And Darin continued to play. The result was something that had not been done before, something new. It was the intersection between Azurei and human. Of stone and the night sky.

Ridahne sang her last note just as Darin's faded off into a soft echo. The silence hung there a moment, for it seemed wrong to disturb it so soon. And Ridahne saw just how many eyes were on her and Darin. She had a sudden expression like she'd just found herself naked in a public square and took several steps back until she had her back against the wall; she slid down and sat on the floor, wanting nothing more than to be less visible than she felt. Her cheeks were bright red even under the cover of her olive skin and tricolored tattoos. What had just happened there was...something sacred. Something pure and unexplainable and could not be replicated or understood. It just was.