Athrym wrapped her hand around his and his serious expression in front of his parents faltered, not entirely expecting the physical response of support to his somewhat improperly needful motion. It was nice. She spoke up to compliment him and his gold-rimmed gaze immediately fell to the table, color rising to his cheeks while he cleared his throat as if he wanted to tell her that was more than enough, as if he wanted to argue the situation. Slowly, awkwardly, Nauleth smiled in his lopsided way and looked back up toward his father instead of the lovely Ambassador after her generous words.
She spoke about her reasons for coming to Brunnhold, and again he heard her speak of the Archives of Gior, the deep places that even her people hadn't been able to reach. They'd spoken of the current limitations, of things lost to time, and how perhaps Naul's rather unorthodox experiments could come to be of use if pursued to perfection. He was admittedly curious, insatiable thirst for touching the boundaries of magic and pushing past them piqued by the promise of being surrounded by galdori even more well-studied in Physical conversation than himself.
Ignorant about wine and aware of Athrym's alcohol baron of a father, the tall red head simply let the conversation unfold around him, watching the faces of his parents while he let the pale Ambassador speak.
"It is indeed Anaxi." Hadrian nodded as if she hadn't said anything else, his expression having remained almost entirely neutral during both his son's introduction and the Gioran's detailed accompaniment. He seemed to have absorbed the duel and Naul's not so subtle flexing of his adulthood without feeling the need to comment. His green eyes took her in carefully, wrinkling at the edges as if he was going to smile even if his mouth didn't seem capable of turning upward in that way in this moment, "It's been aged in Hoxian dxe'ck barrels, actually. The dxe'ck grain grown on the steppes is fermented into a clear alcohol called dhul and those barrels add a very strong undertone. Many mistake it for Mugrobi in process."
He smirked then, finally the hint of a smile, and then shifted in his seat to rest his elbows on the table and look at Nauleth as if he hadn't really seen him in the past eight years.
He hadn't.
The elder Siordanti watched Athrym's fingers brush his son's face and watched his oldest son's expression falter in shyness and surprise. Iralia smiled and out of politeness looked down briefly into her wine glass as if she'd dropped something into it, but at least her expression was one of excitement compared to her Incumbent of a husband.
"Experimental nature, is it? I have no idea what young people are calling things these days." Hadrian quipped, pausing to sip his wine and consider his course of action, "I'm glad that some of my political correctness managed to trickle down to you, Nauleth, unorthodox though your methods may be. I'm sure all of Gior is thankful for your service to its Ambassador."
There was an edge of sarcasm there and the younger Siordanti blushed, reading deeply into the connotations. The reluctant professor recovered quickly, however, putting down his glass of wine and speaking with conviction, "I will find out myself come Winter Break, father, as Athrym has invited me to visit her homeland. I look forward to expanding my understanding of Physical Conversation while I'm there—"
The human returned again, offering a broad, apologetic smile as she set plates of appetizers on the table consisting of breads and cheeses and dried meats and fresh, in-season fruits probably from as far away as the Maluku Isles. It was all a gorgeous spread of little nibbles, and the young woman set about refilling wine glasses, "The main course will be ready shortly, so please enjoy these small plates until then. Thank you."
Without looking up, she was gone again, leaving Naul to pick up where he left off,
"—as well as possibly finish the research I've been conducting to wrap up my post-graduate dissertation for my second degree in Physics." Really, Nauleth wanted a few more degrees, but he was far too busy to pursue any more. He'd just have to learn things on his own outside of Brunnhold's educational offerings or at least pull a few other galdori together to accomplish the studies he'd like to conduct.
Everyone paused to eat, Hadrian offering a very brief blessing in the name of Alioe with hand motions. Passing small plates and nibbling, there was a thankful lull in conversation for several moments, one which Nauleth needed to regather his wits in the presence of his father especially. The small talk that followed was mostly made up of gossip about Annaxi politics, about Brunnhold developments, and about the unseasonably cool Roalis weather. He couldn't ignore the niggling feeling that the Incumbent had some ulterior motive for this dinner that the junior professor had requested, but he couldn't for the life of himself figure out what.
Then again, so did Naul.
While he'd managed to say nothing for an entire season, he'd carefully made a series of decisions, ones that currently filled him with trepidation and excitement at the same time. It would have been the truth to say that the younger Siordanti would have preferred not to include his parents in this particularly personal process had he been able to, but the Anaxi social structure demanded their participation. His meager junior professor salary demanded their participation.
He'd barely nibbled on the appetizers, nervous against the imposing field of his father and jittery in the presence of his overly interested mother. The tall redhead took a moment to refill everyone's wine glasses, choosing to stand to do so, and cleared his throat as he set the near-empty bottle back down on the table.
"—well, perhaps I should take advantage of everyone's attention before our meals arrive." Nauleth's voice wavered and he slid a hand into the pocket of his well-tailored pants, so suddenly filled with an obvious awkwardness that his palms felt like they'd stolen all the moisture form lips because they were so dry, "As much as I would like to say that I brought us together for a simple family dinner, nothing about us Siordantis is ever simple. After almost eight years of not speaking, I thought it fitting to invite you to be present—"
Turning from addressing the entire table, he smiled warmly at Athrym, fingers closing around something small and expensive in a velvet pouch in his pocket, heart fluttering fiercely in his freckled chest beneath far too much finery,
"—while I declare my heartfelt desire to formally court and propose marriage to the accomplished sorceress and Ambassador of Gior, Miss Bruthgrave. If she desires the same, of course."
Welcome to Brunnhold, stop-clocker, now go home.