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Homecoming Dance | Town Hall | Saturday Evening | Post I

Glitter encrusted moosen stood guard in the entry to the transformed Town Hall, reminding all those in attendance that the night was about all things Canadian. Or things the Student Council had deemed Canadian - plus a whole lot of glitter.

Sparkly red maple leaves and paper geese hung from irridescent streamers, setting off the food tables as very much separate from the raised dance floor in case the terrifying papier-mâché beaver didn't make it obvious that the timbits were for eating. Or for dunking in the maple syrup fountain. Beyond pure sugar, there were plenty of bite-size portioned food and nonalcoholic beverages to push the theme into the bellies of all, no matter how tight the dresses!

Beyond the dance floor, the shadowy corners glowed with the twinkle of glittery maple leaf garland and a Joni Mitchell inspired moose that had been strategically positioned to look rather tragic in its lyric-covered glory. Yes, glory. For the evening was to be glorious. Or at the very least entertaining.

Welcome to your 2011 Homecoming Dance!

[ Arrive + Mingle | Photography | Drinks + Snacks | Chaperones | Dancing | Shadowy Corners | OOC | ~~PSST: Go vote!~~ | Post2 ]

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"No, actually, I was curious after your husband's culture," Peter corrected. "I presumed that since you were from a different time and place, the timing of the marriage wasn't such a strange thing."

That got a sharp eyebrow raise out of her, and now she was giving him a curious once-over for the first time. "Oh. I'm sorry, it's just -- everyone here is always so shocked at the age I was wed, I'm a bit used to it. But the Dothraki aren't similar to any of the cultures I've studied here, so far, no -- we're war-riders, and entirely nomadic."

"I've read of some war-riding nomads," Peter volunteered. He'd been fascinated by Genghis Khan at an early age. "The Mongols, most prominently. Though I don't know how close they'd come to your husband's tribe."

"Mongols," she repeated thoughtfully, trying to memorize the word so she could look it up. "We don't have tribes, exactly -- it's called a khalasar. Less...broken than a tribe, more sprawling. A caravan of sorts."

"A caravan," Peter repeated. "I take it you didn't call any particular country your own, then."

Well, she was definitely going in his book of 'potentially interesting people to ally himself with'.

"Not really, no." Because she'd been exiled from her home before she was ever even born. "And where might you be from?" she asked, eager to get off the topic of herself. "This world, this time?"

"The future of this world, actually," Peter said idly. "Two hundred years from now, give or take. We're a little more unified than the world is at present."

"Seems that the world could use a little uniting," Dany noted with a light smile. "How did that come about?"

"We were attacked by outsiders, now a long time ago," Peter said, choosing words that would make this easy to explain to someone who hadn't grown up with the fiction of this time period.

He might be a jackass, but he knew words. "They killed a good portion of the population. We drove them back, but only barely, because we had all these different armies fighting in different places. So our leaders decided that we needed to work together more closely, just in case they'd come back. Which they did."

"In a way," Dany said slowly, thinking of home, of the Others she'd heard tell of in the North, "it was good. You lost some, yes, but for the greater good, your world was united as a stronger front. You have armies of different strengths fighting different battles, and when they became one...well, I assume it worked out better?"

"It did," Peter agreed. "Actually, we finally destroyed our enemies a few months ago. Of course now politicians are arguing about the best way to deal with the different peoples of the world now, because they've never really felt united."

Look, after all the teenage drama of the past few days, talking about politics and being Locke at somebody came as a welcome relief.

"Have you a single leader, or many vying for the throne?" Dany asked. "That tends to cloud things, in my experience. That's how my home is, right now. Many feel they can claim the Iron Throne of Westeros, but there's only one true heir."

Herself, but she didn't want to seem too arrogant.

"Currently, the world's political leader is the Hegemon," Peter said. "Until recently, he was backed by both of our military leaders, the Strategos and the Polemarch. But the world's balance of power is starting to fracture - the Polemarch attempted a hostile take-over, and his country has now seceded from the Hegemony. So the Hegemon is losing a lot of power, and the military commanders who won the war are going to return soon. I think we might have a civil war on our hands soon enough."

Which was why Peter was currently working on his power base as Locke so he could take over the Hegemony before that happened, but he wasn't about to let her know that. Much as he might like to.

"World-wide?" she asked, wincing. "And who might you place as the best candidate for the job? Isn't the policy of this country to have many leaders below an elected one?"

Seemed silly to her. How would you know someone was fit to reign if their family had no experience in it?

Who'd he place? Well, himself.

"Sure, but most of the leaders below the Hegemon are the leaders of the various formerly sovereign nations on our planet," Peter explained. "And each and every one of them thinks they're the best candidate for the job."

He sighed.

"I'm not so sure," he said. "I don't think there's anyone around right now who's really thinking about what's good for the planet, rather than themselves. There's this one person on the nets who managed to stave off the immediate civil war we threatened to fall into a few months ago, but he remains anonymous."

"Probably the smartest one out there, then," she noted thoughtfully. "People who actually want power tend to share their face."

"You have to admit, it does make it easier to rule," Peter said, wryly. "But you seem pretty familiar with this kind of thing."

Dany offered him a tiny smile. "I'm a queen. This sort of wariness is hard-earned. But if you stay out of the light and make a play for power, you're safe from, say, assassination, or attack, or hostage-taking."

It didn't exactly take Peter a lot of time to add up two and two after that answer. "Ah," he said. "I suppose Fandom casts a nice shadow to stay in for a while."

She inclined her head, thinking it was probably time to introduce herself. "Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Protector of the Realm, and Khaleesi of the Dothraki. I'm not very popular at home right now." And she was hiding because she was vulnerable, not because she feared that.

Peter inclined his head. "I'm pleased to meet you, your majesty," he said. Time spent talking to ministers and Polemarches meant he did have some idea how to do this. "I'm Peter Wiggin," he added, "Student."

He bit down on the depressing urge to add, 'and my brother is the admiral who saved the world', because how desperate would that sound?

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Homecoming Dance | Town Hall | Saturday Evening | Post I

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