fandomhigh | Practical Etiquette, Period 3, Class #6

Miss Bennet had ~~handwavily~~ notified her students to meet her in the Danger Shop, this week, and added that they might wish to wear something elegant, but not to concern themselves if they were unable to accomplish the latter. She herself had worn one of her favorite gowns, with a stylish hairpiece and opera-length gloves.

The Danger Shop looked identical to Miss Bennet's classroom, save the two ornate double doors off to one side, and a far more ordinary one to the rear.

"Welcome," Miss Bennet said, smiling at her students. "First, I should like to say that you have my apologies for my absence last week, though I am glad to know that I left you in quite capable hands. Secondly, I wish to inform you that, as last week is our last time together, I will be giving a final exam. Pray do not distress yourselves studying; it will not be the sort of examination which requires rote memorization. More a practical application of what we have learned so far.

"And now, we may progress to today's lesson. Today, we will be discussing etiquette as applies to more formal setting; that is to say, a dinner party." She clasped her hands in front of herself. "One arrives, and mingles with the other guests, making polite conversation. Nothing too serious, and nothing which may cause offense. When dinner is announced, guests follow into the dining area by order of precedence -- their social standing as regards one another. When you find yourself in doubt in such situations, it is wiser to err on the side of caution, and rank yourself slightly lower than your own estimations. It is better to be elevated by an attentive hostess than demoted.

"Always stand until your hostess sits. Soup is the first course; do take care not to begin on your own food until all have been served, and even then, it is wise to wait for one's hostess to begin. Converse with those seated near you. Do not shout over several individuals in order to have a loud conversation with someone on the opposite side of the table altogether. Do please remember that it is considered rude to snub the food with which you are presented; if it is not to your liking, make an effort to eat enough of it that your dislike will not be noticeable, lest the party think you are insulting your hostess. For silverware, there is a simple trick: start on the furthest utensil out, then move inward for each course."

Miss Bennet then straightened up, and walked purposefully to the door at the back of the room. "You all look quite lovely," she said, regardless of whether any of them had actually worn anything formal. "But we have several minutes before our dinner party is to start. So should any of you desire, you may sample the Danger Shop's wares." She opened the door, revealing a small storeroom filled with dresses and suits, with changing areas to the side. Her eyes were dancing. "Do please hurry, so our food does not turn cold."

(~~Wait for~~ OCD up!)

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"I think if you called me Your Majesty, I might swoon from the shock and we couldn't have that. Miss Hathaway."

"Actually I'd be okay with that if you end up with soup on your face," Rose shot back.

"The day is young. I may end up with soup on my face anyway even without the swooning."

"Yep," she grinned. "Or I might throw mashed potatoes at you."

"I don't think Miss Bennet would approve," Edmund replied. "But it would certainly liven up the party. Would you throw them just at me or share them around?"

Rose pretended to consider. "Oh, I think the group could use some mashed potato hair. It'd be fun."

Ed glanced over at Worf. "He doesn't seem the type that would find it very amusing."

"He'd live," Rose said smugly. She followed Ed's glance to Worf, looking amused. "He'd just roar a lot."

"He roars?" Ed asked quietly. How very lion-like. "Does he roar often?"

"Only when pissed," Rose laughed. "We could test it if you wanted..."

"You seem keen on ruining Miss Bennet's dinner party," Edmund noted.

"Nah, I'm just trying to keep you from swooning over me behaving myself," she teased.

"I'll do my very best to stay conscious and out of my soup regardless of your behaviour. Just for you."

Rose tilted her head to look over at him, way too amused. "You really are very chivalrous."

"It's second nature," he deadpanned. "What's yours?"

"I can't tell you," Rose said.

"Oh, so keeping secrets then."

"Nope, just making you work for it."

"Well, you wouldn't want me to get bored. Then I might wander off and you wouldn't have anyone to light a fire for you."

Rose laughed and shook her head. "But then you'd have no one to give you marshmallows," she pointed out. "And that would be sad."

"I don't know what I would do without marshmallows," Ed shook his head. "Possibly eat real food."

"You are obsessed with real food," Rose said, rolling her eyes. "Is this a King thing? Gotta eat right to rule right?"

He resisted the urge to snort at the dinner table and went with a small shake of his head. "I'm not a big fan of sweets, that's all."

"Guess I better find another food to tease you with then," Rose said thoughtfully. "Is spinach more up your alley?"

"Now you're just being cruel. Seriously, does anyone actually like spinach?" The only spinach Ed had ever eaten was overcooked and slid down his throat a lot like that time he'd eaten a worm on a dare when he was small. Okay, times.