They were over the top and campy, but surprisingly the elves could really cut a rug. An'Thaya donned the most serious gaze in her arsenal and riveted on her husband, following his lead despite the utterly ridiculous napkin.
Then they were cheek to cheek and travelling the length of the taproom as The'ara switched up the music.
Oh that was delightful.
An'Thaya sang along, the words slow honey in the ear of her beautiful disaster of an Elen Prince.
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