Dancing Lessons
He wanted to be outside, in the fresh spring air chasing after his friend and older half-brother Bash. Instead he was in the ballroom, with Mary, his betrothed. The Italian dance master Virgilio Bracesco and Mary's governess, Lady Fleming, were instructing the two young royals on the fine art of courtly dancing.
"You will hold her hand like so," the dance master demonstrated, holding Lady Fleming's hand.
He didn't mind holding Mary's hand; ever since she arrived a few months ago she hardly left his side. She chased after him, and he chased after her. They explored the castle together. That is when they were allowed to go exploring. It seemed nowadays they were always in class, learning this and that; studying for the important roles they would someday hold as leaders. Their lessons were not always together like this one. He was often alone with his tutors for his lessons. Mary reported she was also alone, but Elizabeth would often tag along. At the age of four she was just a year younger than he, but she was three years younger than Mary. Despite their age difference the two girls had become very close, probably because they shared a room. It was obvious Elizabeth adored Mary, looking up to her like she would a big sister. After all she was essentially just that, or would be one day, when they married. Mary was his friend – a friend who would one day be his wife and his Queen, but for now she was just his friend.
He took Mary's hand in his just as Master Bracesco had Lady Fleming's. The Master nodded in approval.
His hand was warm in hers. She remembered it had always been that way. They paraded around the dance floor as King and Queen, in the processional dance of the pavane. He bent his head close to hers. "Do you remember the first time we danced this very dance?" He asked.
The dance continued, and on the conversion or turning steps she lent closer to him and whispered, "How could I forget."
"This is a simple dance. Primarily just a walking step, two single, and then one double," Master Bracesco informed. "Watch!" He then waved to the musicians, and music began. It was a slow song or rather beat. Holding hands facing the pupils, the Master and the governess took two single steps forward, a double step which was only a hair faster and then two more single steps forward. The music was perfectly on beat with the steps.
At the completion of the step sequence, the Master unclasp hands with the governess, stepped to the side, clapped, and commanded, "Now do!"
This is easy. Francis thought. It really is just walking.
The music began again. Hands clasped together at their side, and facing the Master, now back across the ballroom, Mary and Francis both took a step forward. Simultaneously Mary stepped with her right foot first, just like the governess and the Master had, while Francis stepped with his left. Mary's step had been delicate, even though her legs were longer than Francis', as she was taller than he. Francis' step had been awkwardly larger than Mary's, despite his smaller stature.
"No! No!" The Master shouted. Then he mumbled something angrily in Italian. He took a deep breath, and sighed. "Take small steps, and just walk. Right step, and together. Left step, and together." He demonstrated again, this time without holding the hand of the Lady Fleming. "Now you do. Alone." He pointed at Francis.
Francis wasn't quite sure why he was the only one being asked to do it…and not Mary. But he would follow the directions. He took a step and brought his feet together and then another step. The Master clapped. "Excellent! Now let's try it again, with your bride."
Francis wanted to roll his eyes, but resisted. Mary was not his bride…not yet. He again took her hand, and the friends shared a look. Mary rolled her eyes, careful not to be seen. He almost laughed. She had the boldness to do what he really wanted to do. He knew that if he had rolled his eyes though, he would have been caught. That is just how it always was. She always knew just the right moment to do those kinds of things, and get away with it.
The music began and they attempted the walking step again.
The King and Queen stepped the pavane toward their audience, perfectly in time. Right, step together, left, step together. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right, step together. Left, step together. Right. Left. Right. Left.
They had been in the lesson for nearly an hour it seemed. Mary, who thought of herself to be a usually patient person, was beginning to get irritated. This "Master" of dance was supposed to be the best, according to Queen Catherine, but clearly he wasn't because Francis wasn't able to perform this dance – a simple walking step pavane. She wanted to ask if she could be excused. That morning, Elizabeth had asked Mary to have a picnic in the garden for their midday meal. Mary figured it was probably getting close to mid-day. She watched Francis attempt the double step again, on his own for probably the 100th time. She had grasped the step the first try. After all it was just walking.
The Master was speaking Italian again in an angry tone, and gesturing wildly.
"Master Bracesco," Mary began tentatively, "May we take a break?" she paused very briefly, but then continued quickly before he could respond, she was not taking no for an answer, "Eating our midday meal will better sustain us for afternoon lessons, and we will return with renewed motivation. It will do us all good, I believe." Perhaps Mary's kind way with words persuaded him, or perhaps he was just too exhausted himself, but Virgilio Bracesco released them from their dance lesson for an hour.
The King and Queen stood to the side, to watch the pupils take a turn at the processional dance. Right, step together. Left, step together.
Mary whispered to Francis "He's already doing better than you did."
Francis smiled, "Ah, he has his mother's grace."
Mary and Francis joined Elizabeth and her nurse on the picnic. After eating stuffed savory pastries, olives, and cheese and resting for a bit on the lawn of the courtyard, they could not put off Elizabeth's pleas any longer. She was so eager to see what they had learned during their dance lesson.
"Trust me, it isn't impressive." Mary said first. But Francis could use the practice away from the dance Master, she thought.
"There is no music!" The young prince protested.
"Please! Please!" Elizabeth begged, once more.
"Get up!" Mary ordered Francis, smoothing down the skirt of her dress, from where it had wrinkled. "You need more practice anyway. The quicker you get the steps, the quicker we can be out of the dance lesson."
He didn't like the tone, she took with him, but she did have a point. He feigned protest just briefly, and then got up.
Elizabeth clapped exuberantly with joy. "I wish I had to take dance lessons."
The nurse pulled the three year old princess onto her lap and said, "You will one day sweet Lizzie."
"And hopefully, it will be more exciting." Mary added, and then turned her attention to Francis. "Now, it's just walking remember." She took his hand, taking charge of the situation. His hand was warm. "I'll say the steps. Okay?" She asked, and he nodded. Even though he had been displeased with her tone initially, he did like how she was taking charge of the situation. Would she always be like this? He wondered briefly. Will she be like this when we are grown and married? Her eyes held his eyes, after he had nodded, and it was almost as if she were speaking to him without words, and then she began, "Right, step together. Left, step together," and it was like magic, they were finally in sync with the steps. "Right. Left. Right. Left." Even through the double step. "Right, step together. Left, step together. Right. Left. Right. Left." And they stopped. "Well that went well." She wasn't overly excited; at least she didn't show it outwardly. She just inquired, "Should we try the retreating step sequence?"
"Same steps, just backwards. Sure." Francis replied.
Right. Left. Right. Left. Right, step together. Left, step together. The young prince and princess began the retreating steps now. The Queen chided the King, "Ah, but here is where it gets interesting."
"Okay." She locked eyes with him again, just like before and then began with a nod, "Right, step together. Left, step to – " and that was when Francis fell right on his buttocks.
Elizabeth, and even the nurse, burst into laughter! Mary seemed genuinely concerned though, "Oh goodness! Francis! Are you alright?!" He had nearly brought her down with him, but she'd let go of his hand when he had started to fall.
Ow! He didn't quite know what had happened. He hadn't bumped his head, but he still felt that stunned feeling one experiences right after one falls. He shook it off, and said, "Uh yeah. I..uh…tripped."
Realizing he was fine, Mary joined in the giggles. "That. Is. Obvious." She managed between the giggles. After she had regained her composure, she reached out her hand to help him up.
"You let go." Francis said accusingly. "Why did you let go of my hand!?" His bottom was a bit sore but his pride was hurt more. He brushed off his pants violently.
Mary was taken aback by his anger. "I…I didn't mean to." She stuttered out.
"If it had been you… I would have never let go of your hand." His words were not sharp this time. He was just speaking what he knew was the truth. It was the gentleman's way and he knew this even at the young age of five. The nurse, busied Elizabeth with gathering the remnants of their picnic, but kept an eye on the young betrothed couple. Mary, who moments before had been confident and commanding, looked down reverently and apologized, "I'm sorry," and then she added, "If it happens again. I promise I won't let go."
It happened again. This time however it wasn't the little prince, who fell first on the retreating step. It was the princess. However, her older brother did not let go.
His father had taught him that, in a conversation they had about dancing, right before this very lesson. "A gentleman never let's go, James. Even if it means you fall also."
"But Papa, I don't want to fall." The young prince admitted honestly.
"No one ever does," Francis stated, "But, you also do not want your lady to fall. Ideally if you feel her falling, you gently catch her fall, or pull her back up."
"What if I fall with her," James asked curiously.
"Then you fall together." Francis said matter-of-factly. "Just keep your head up."
Inquisitively James asked, "Did Mama ever fall?"
"No. No she did not." Francis answered.
"Did you ever – " James began, but then Francis stopped him, taking two big steps and lifting his six year old son, into the ballroom for the lesson. "Off you go!" Francis chimed.
"I hope she doesn't fall." James mused as he ran across the ballroom joining his sister.
So when Anne began to fall, James did not let go. Unfortunately, this also lead to his own bottom crashing down on the hard ballroom floor.
Mary rushed to their side. Even though she had expected it…she still hated to see her children fall. "Oh My dears! Are you alright?" They were. Though they had that same stunned expression she remembered seeing on their father's face so many years ago. Mary almost laughed in remembrance. She kissed them both, and helped them up. She checked them over, dusting off their bottoms. James, squirmed away. "Mama, I'm fine!" He protested. The dance instructor assured The Queen that her children were just fine, and Mary retreated back to her husband's side.
"He didn't let go." Francis pointed out.
"Of course not!" Mary stated. "He may have my grace, but he has your gentlemanly manners." She smiled, taking her husband's hand and giving it three gentle squeezes. "But you know, it does appear that Anne has your, uh…" she paused searching for the right word, "coordination."
"Is that so?" Francis replied with a tilt of his head.
Disclaimer: I do not own Reign or anything involved with the show. I'm just borrowing the characters.
Author's Note: I owe special thanks to Heather for being my beta for this, and also to Jessiegabriela for the cover art.
This was written for the hiatus challenge in the Francis and Mary thread at Fanforum. The prompt was "dancing." Credit is to Wikipedia, especially for information about Mary's life in France. She and Elizabeth really did share a room, and were good friends. Lady Fleming was a real person. She was Mary's governess, and the mother of one of "the four Marys" that were actually RL Mary's ladies in waiting. Lady Fleming actually has her own Wikipedia article, because there is a little more to her story. But that is not for here. (Shout out to Mercia from FF, who knows all about her.) Virgilio Bracesco, was also a real person, who according to Wikipedia Francis learned dancing from. He does not have his own Wikipedia article. Credit also to the Library of Congress website about Dance Instruction Manuals, and particularly the Western Social Dance section. This site even had video clips of professional dancers – doing these steps. They were especially helpful! The Pavan or Pavane appears to be a very simple dance, possibly a beginner's dance; which is what I chose the dance to be for young Mary and Francis. My research is not perfect, and here is where I'm admitting that. I did not do any research on gentlemanly manners – that part just kind of happened as I wrote it. This was just fictional fun, loosely based on "facts." Probably much like Reign itself. I really hope you enjoyed it. Come visit us at Fanforum!