Lae’zel hadn’t been lying when she told Benedict Bridgerton that she needed a break. Far from it, in fact - while she found that she quite enjoyed the similarities between the art of war and the art of the dance, there was only so much that a body could take. Besides, she’d conditioned her body to be able to hold a sword, run into battle, and defeat her enemies. While the thought processes were similar to each other, the physicality certainly wasn’t, and her muscles were aching in places that practically hadn’t hurt since the first days after she hatched. Or perhaps, she thought woefully, it was just that this body was weaker than her githyanki form. Humans, in general, weren’t raised to have the same fortitude, and the body she was currently in didn’t even have calluses from her sword! She wasn’t looking forward to trying to remake those, but it was nevertheless in her day's plans until Lady Featherington had swept her up in all of these dresses and frills and other useless garbage.

Lae’zel gathered her far too large skirt into her fist, apparently much too high for society's standards if she were to judge by the shocked look of some of the mothers, but she knew there would be no way for her to get through the crowds of people unaccosted otherwise. She wasn’t sure if it was something about her face, her family, or her grace on the dance floor that kept these human males swarming after her, but she needed a moment to breathe. In her current state, she would be surprised if she could defeat even an intellect devourer, and frankly, that thought terrified her.

She was supposed to be protecting her people. She was supposed to be gearing up to defeat an Elder Brain before it made them all into mindless zombies. And yet, here she was - wearing dresses and playing pretend with these people that, in all likelihood, didn’t actually exist outside of her own mind. She might not put her faith in Vlaakith anymore, but for the first time she realized that maybe there was a reason Vlaakith didn’t support her anymore, either. Well, an additional reason outside of her directly disobeying her by refusing to kill the being inside the Astral Prism.

Gale was still over by the food when she arrived, and she found herself happy to talk to someone else who knew about their situation. That may have been the craziest thing of all, she thought - being interested in talking to someone like Gale. But alas, he was here, and while he might be a wizard who mistakenly thought himself to be the smartest member of their party, she supposed it wasn’t that odd. It wasn’t like she was finding herself glad to talk to Shadowheart, after all.

“Greetings!” Gale said with a small wave that almost made her want to turn right back around and return from where she’d come. Instead, she paused for a moment to give a silent sigh, then continued toward him. “I saw you dancing out on the floor! I never pictured you as much of a dancer, personally - Karlach, of course, but I’m glad that she seems to finally be taking a turn.”

Lae’zel turned to look at Karlach and Benedict spinning together. Karlach looked like she was using her full concentration, which made sense to her - barbarians weren’t known for their detail, after all. And Benedict looked like he was laughing. She hoped for his sake that he was laughing with Karlach instead of at her. She may be trapped in a human body as well, but unlike Lae’zel, she seemed to retain at least some of her strength. While Lae’zel held no personal regard for the safety of the Bridgertons, she knew that Penelope cared greatly for them, and Penelope had been kind to her. She’d hate to have one of her friends kill one of Penelope’s.

“I would say that I’m surprised that you’re not on the floor yourself,” she said, turning back to the table and grabbing a lemonade, “but you’ve never been much of a fighter.”

Gale chuckled. “That may be true, but I’ll have you know that I’ve attended my fair share of balls in Waterdeep. Granted, my mother went with to those as well, so I spent a fair bit of my time asking the daughters of her friends to dance, versus choosing who I actually wanted to dance with. But none of those parties had these types of biscuits.” He picked up a biscuit from the table and popped it into his mouth, his eyes nearly rolling back in exaggerated pleasure from it. “I’m afraid I’ve eaten so many of these that I shan't have to eat for the rest of the week.”

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“Excellent,” Lae’zel said, taking a biscuit for herself. She had to admit that he was at least right about the quality of the food. “If you aren’t needed at meals, that will leave us more time to look for a portal back home.”

Gale choked on yet another biscuit.

After coughing for a moment to clear his throat, he glared at her as subtly as he could (which was not particularly subtle, considering there were now people looking in their direction). “Are you mad?” he hissed. “I hardly think this is the place to discuss such matters.”

“Why not?” she hissed, crossing her arms. She knew it was undignified, especially for a githyanki, but if she didn’t do something to restrain herself, she might not be able to physically restrain her irritation. “It’s not as though any of these simpletons would have any clue as to what we’re talking about. Most of them have not even left this town, much less left this plane.”

She saw a couple of eyebrows raise near them, but Lae’zel knew that there were too far away to be able to hear a word of what they were saying. Gale, however, clearly didn’t, as his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “You can’t just say such things in public,” he whispered back to her. “At least not by the dessert tray. Here,” he said, offering his hand to her, and for some reason that she couldn’t quite fathom, she ended up taking it.

Gale started walking back to the dance floor, and the crowds parted for them as they moved. Several people looked at them in confusion and shock, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was going out to the dance floor with Gale after having rejected a Bridgerton (which, even not having been from this area, she knew would be quite foolish if she was actually planning on staying here for any length of time) or if they had heard her, but frankly, she wasn’t sure if she really cared.

Gale stopped toward the edge of the dance floor and turned abruptly, giving her a small bow. She returned with a small curtsy of her own (not because she thought it was proper for Gale, but because she had followed the queues of other women when she’d first started dancing. Frankly, she thought it was a ridiculous tradition - they were already willing to be in close proximity to each other, so was it really necessary to expose the back of your neck for a vulnerability?) and Gale stepped forward to grab her hand, trying his best to match the beat of the waltz that was playing.

“Much better,” Gale said quietly as he stepped toward her. “Everyone out here is focused on their own conversations and their own steps. Now back to what you were saying, I’m not sure we should even be going home, personally.”

“What?” Lae’zel yelped, and even though the dance, she managed to draw a few stares. She smiled politely at them to reassure them that she was okay, then turned back to Gale. “What do you mean by that? We have to go back. The Elder Brain is planning on turning people into a zombie hoard. For all we know, this,” she said, gesturing to the dancing around them, “is all a hallucination from them.”

“I don’t think it is,” Gale said after a heartbeat. “It feels too real. You feel real to me,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I don’t think I’d be able to touch anything in a hallucination. And I highly doubt you’d be disagreeing me, or even having any thoughts about wanting to go back!”

“Unless you are the hallucination for me, and you’re trying to make us stay here,” she argued back.

“A fair point, although I assure you that, from my viewpoint at least, that is inaccurate. Now,” he said, cutting her off before she had a chance to respond, “I’m not saying that we shouldn’t look into it and see if there is even a possibility of us going back. If there’s a possibility, I’d like to know about it. But once we find it, I’m just saying that we should seriously think about the possibility of us staying here regardless.”

“We can’t,” Lae’zel said, as though that was the only argument that she had. Frankly, she thought, it was the only argument that was really needed.

“But what is even waiting for us back home?” Gale asked. “A large battle in which we all quite possibly die, or us turning into a group of slaves. Even if I can get up to the Elder Brain and explode before it kills all of us, what then? Karlach dies, Astarion and Wyll go back into servitude, and you go back to serve a false god who doesn’t want you anymore. Why is that better than here, living amongst these people, eating delicious food and dancing the night away? And I’ve yet to even see an imp, much less any real danger.”

Lae’zel opened her mouth to answer, but she found she couldn’t come up with any words other than that they had to leave because they had to leave. As she tried to wrap her mind around the thought, the music came to an end, and all the women started to retreat from the dance floor.

Gale, noticing the lack of sound, stepped away and bowed yet again. “Just think about it,” he asked. “For now, I’ll have to bid you good night, however. It seems I finally found the woman I was talking with earlier, and I would love to ask her to dance.”

In a sea of confusing things, Lae’zel, though, that was perhaps the most confusing. She turned toward where Gale’s eyes stared, and she saw Penelope in her garishly yellow dress. She started to shake her head, but then stopped herself. Really, she thought, if there was one thing about tonight that made sense, she thought she would put that at the top of the list.