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A Dancer's Fancy
Aya gazed into the mirror, one of the few real luxuries of her discounted room. She posed playfully, putting on a smile and enjoying the sight. Her jewelry jingled with the motion, joined by the sound of her light laughter.
It had been a lovely few days of rest: Momodi had given her a week of light duties that had bought her precious time to relax. She hadn't left the city, but at least she had been able to enjoy her afternoons and evenings. The days were filled with the simple pleasures of evening meals beneath the setting sun, and long walks along many of the city's still unfamiliar avenues. Still, it was the time spent with her friends, the little shop and dance studio tucked away deep within Ul'dah's torturous alleys and neighborhoods that she enjoyed the most. She had met so many people in her few months in Ul'dah, so many adventurers, soldiers, and traders that she could scarcely remember them all, but it was in the company of these friends that she always felt most at ease. The dancers understood each other in a way that others simply could not: the wonders and pleasures of their art, and the struggles and difficulty that they encountered trying to make a living. For them, the little studio was a true diamond in the rough, a getaway from the travails and pressures of the day-to-day. Inside the small group of dancers, friends each, were left to their own devices. To practice, to share, to enjoy. It was work, indeed, but work where smiles and laughter could drown out frustration and fear.
Without moving, she imagined herself dressed in the silk veils and jewelry of an Ul'dahn dancer. Hands held above her head, hips and shoulders moving rhythmically to the sound of the city's exotic music. Decorated with the body jewelry she had come to adore, adding the sound of jingling chains and charms to the tune. She had been known for the style in Ishgard, but what she had practiced was an adulteration of the true art. Here she could learn from those who were formed and shaped by the dance itself. It was something that had helped draw her to the dangerous city-in-the-sand, and now kept her there. She grinned at the flight of fancy, moved by the adulation of an imaginary crowd.
She turned gracefully, hands to her hips, looking over her shoulder to see how she looked from the other side. She grinned again, there would be no dancing tonight, but at least she would look good. She gave her hips a little shake, and laughed once more.
The midday "music" began only with the sound of jewelry joined by the click of heels against stone that filled the hall, joined slowly by the rising din of merriment and good company as she drew closer to the main floor of the Quick Sand. Her smile grew broader as she swayed her hips confidently, entering that playful saunter that seemed to serve her so well. As she bounced down the steps, and into the Quick Sand, the eyes of patrons flicked up, and seeing the now familiar blonde barmaid, several of the customers hollered to her, while fresh smiles looked up to her from across the atrium.
She grinned happily as she walked, turning her head toward Momodi, and drawing her bangs back with her hand. The two greeted one another with looks of mutual welcome and understanding. From the tables, regular patrons were already calling her over, suddenly ready to be served.
It may not have been an audience, but at least it was not a flight of fancy.[/align]
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