Will You Dance
The notes spewing from her vocal chords were slightly off-key, but he didn't notice. He was too tired to notice. She intertwined her slender fingers within his and raised it to head-level barely atop her left shoulder. With his left hand, she guided it to her waist, then she sighed and continued the tune, which appeared much simpler with only her humming. They finally maneuvered the center of the ground, her feet delicately moving about his with intricate and perfect steps.
She closed her eyes and he did not look at her or even his own feet. He was too weary of life to look at anything. The girl sensed this, but continued dancing with him because in this moment, she felt that familiar sense of freedom delving into her being. She wondered if the boy holding her could feel what she knew was real. It was like flying with that white dove that sailed the white heavens, looking for nothing, having no obligations. Just flying. The feeling, to her at least, was so palpable.
Her parents were alive and his brother was dead. It was simple. They were dancing, not to celebrate anything, or to try to have fun like they would have a few months back. He stepped on her feet several times not because it was an accident, but because it would force him to keep trying. To keep trying to discover the secret to painless mourning through the art of fumbling about. She ignored her foot's slight pain that would only last for a few seconds because she was used to it. This boy always did that when they danced.
She smiled at him and he assumed that her expression accepted his silent apology and they continued to dance. Her voice reached the chorus of the orchestral piece and in her mind she knew the boy was wincing behind his stoic face. She was off-key, but that wasn't the cause for her reasoning. He was too tired. Of her. Of messing up. Of dancing.
So the girl removed her hands away from his shoulders and stepped back. He looked surprised, but she knew he wasn't. Her gray eyes followed his as they fell to the cobblestone streets of Rabanastre.
"I'm sorry," she spoke softly. He still didn't look at her.
"Don't apologize," the boy replied. Then he disappeared into the throng of moving Rabanastrans.
"I'm glad our dancing at least is great," the boy commented. The girl clenched the juncture of his neck and he yelped in pain.
"My voice isn't supposed to sound pretty. My dancing is what counts," she shot back. The boy with the hair reminiscent of rain smiled and glanced toward his brother who blatantly displayed how extremely bored he was, merely watching his family squander their time away.
"Vaan, how's our posture?" Reks queried, an attempt to get his younger sibling involved. The boy finished off his star fruit, swallowed, and replied,
"You two look like crippled chocobos. . . . The judges won't like that," he answered, playfully shaking his head and giving them a disappointed look. Reks, however, took him seriously. Possibly because dancing with Penelo, the true genius of waltzing, he wanted to establish how good he could be with her. A diminutive crowd was growing around them. Some were interested only because they knew the dancing contest held at the sandsea was fast approaching and they felt that these two children would actually liven up such a boring show.
Reks and Penelo finished the dance and blushed when they received applause.
The new sheet music was dull and uninteresting, but it would provide some relief for Vaan when they practiced again. She analyzed the slow fourth and half notes and her feelings sank to the pit of her stomach. Her dreams wouldn't be realized if she danced with this music, but she resolved that things like dreams or goals or people never lasted. She tried, and even attained, but beautiful things never lasted. Ugly and disgusting things faded too.
"Why this music?" Penelo faced Vaan. "You said yourself that it's boring at we won't win," he explained, his tone dripping with vexation. She didn't give an expression, nor did she say anything for a bit. He took this opportunity to speak. "After dinner, meet me by the west gate."
The sun hurt his eyes, but he liked squinting at it. Up there with the sun, you could probably see everything. On the right, you'd see the deteriorating Rabanastre, and on the left, you'd admire the glamorous and garish Archadia. He told that to Vaan, but his brother replied that he liked the ground better:
"You get to see more of life down here. The sun only sees Rabanastre as a little dot, but down here, you see a whole different world. From up there, you wouldn't know about war and knights." Vaan glanced at his brother, and they exchanged serious and solemn glances between each other, only for a glimpse of a moment.
"Since when did you start saying stuff like that?" Reks suddenly asked, his fingers digging into his brother's scalp. They laughed and initiated a brotherly spar, typical of them. When they finally settled down, resting on the shifting pale grains of the Westersand, they watched the sun and silently admired how bright the day was.
Neither of them said a word. When it was time to retire, they walked back in understanding silence. Tomorrow, Reks was enlisting into the Army of Dalmasca. Tomorrow, Vaan wasn't sure how he would explain to Penelo that she wouldn't have a dancing partner.
Her mother had prepared a lovely dinner for her family. Father had come home from his usual days in the desert fetching supplies for the Sandsea, and he had even found extra time to do a bit of hunting, targeting one of the most delicious game generally found in lower-class cuisine. Penelo was never fond of wolf meat, be she had to acquaint herself with the rough and bitter taste of it, for the sake of survival.
Vaan didn't attend dinner with his surrogate family and Penelo figured he was angry at her still. Even during today's practice, he seemed distant, even more so since his brother died. And then, she was reminded that they had a meeting tonight in the West Gate. So she quickly ate, bid her family goodnight and slipped past the two sleeping sentries on duty who should have been guarding the gate.
The boy was standing with his back facing her. His arms were crossed and he was looking at the silver moon that cast a blue and bright light on the desolate plains. A slight breeze touched his blond hair, but he seemed not to notice. He instead appeared to be impatient of waiting.
Slowly and almost undetected, Penelo came up beside him, interlocking her fingers in front of her. She joined him in staring at the huge and round object hovering in the dark heavens. Insects hiding within bushes and under the sands came together with mild dissonance, and for a while, that sound was the only thing either of them wanted to hear.
"Reks said something to me that day before he left. . . ." Vaan finally began. He squinted at the moon though its light wasn't shimmering enough to cause such a reaction. But Penelo knew better. He was remembering. She continued to listen, noting that this was the first time he spoke of Reks since his death. A slight grin creased her lips. "We were looking at the sun . . . and he said when he's gone no one would be there to dance with you. At first, I was a little mad because his thoughts were on you, not me. . . . I know it sounds selfish, but . . . I---"
Penelo reached for his forearm and he immediately faced her, the feeling in his fingers receding. His arm dangled and she held it. "It's alright, I understand."
"He said he liked dancing with you because it was fun and different. He never thought about what he had to do the next day or hour. He even forgot who he was. If he could, I know he would thank you. I think . . . I think that's why I took his spot. I wanted to feel that too, and I don't know. I never did. . . . But even with me, we won't win this contest like you wanted. I don't know why he had to leave and die before at least dancing with you one more time."
She was crying and it was affecting him too. Small bubbles of clear liquid formed at his lashes and he didn't attempt to wipe them away, even when her fingers were flickering away her own tears.
"He wanted to protect you and me. That's what's important to remember," Penelo sobbed and then chuckled briefly. "I thought you were beginning to hate me. You know, how your brother died and how I lost nothing. Like I'm the lucky one or something. . . . And then me forcing you to dance to his favorite song like this, just for some dancing contest."
Vaan extended his arms to her and she walked into them, resting her cheek on his warm chest. His heart was fluttering and she figured it to be appropriate. He was telling her everything he wanted to say but wouldn't or couldn't rather. They enveloped each other for what seemed to be an eternity.
"I know I haven't been myself and I'm sorry if I made you sad or anything. But there's something I want to ask you, even though I don't deserve it," he spoke softly. She simply nodded and he began to pull away from her. Vaan placed her right hand into his palm. "Will you dance with me? I know we probably won't win, and I know I can't dance like Reks. I mean, I keep stepping on your feet and I never look into your eyes or anything. But, let's dance together. If I really try and you really try, we can see for ourselves what Reks had felt."
Penelo said nothing. She began to hum Vaan's brother's favorite song. That was all that mattered. Reaching that place where Reks had been. Maybe he was waiting for them there.
"Light as the burdens of Angels," she softly sang into his ear, "sometimes we fly just a little too low. The smell that leads me to be, loses its fragrance once in a while. . . . The center of this voice, it echoes and beats of one and two, and three. . . ." And they danced slowly, closely, hoping to find that place, that otherworld Reks had traveled whenever he danced with Penelo.
Light as the burdens of Angels,
sometimes we fly just a little too low.
The smell that leads me to be,
loses its fragance once in a while.
The center of this voice,
it echoes and beats of one and two, and three
too heavy for me,
too heavy for now.
In these lonely skies,
let your magic soar,
where the ocean replies,
gently kiss your shore.
I'm sensing the edge at my fingertips.
No one seems to be speaking a word.
Hush my little self, hush my little self.
In these lonely skies,
let your magic soar,
where the ocean replies,
gently kiss your shore.
When you pour that sweet life into me
let it be so real.
The ground pulls out, and hangs me in space,
darkness let us cease hate
In these lonely skies, let your magic soar
where the ocean replies, gently kiss your shore
Hold me now with your magic, you magic love,
that magic love is just like, love is just like,
love is just like magic,
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
They entered the contest together, and as Vaan expected they did not attain a victory. And for once, Penelo didn't at all care. She even clapped for the married couple that did win.