Disclaimer: I still own absolutely nothing.

Author's Note: This is a companion piece to Dancing Through the Ages, though it can stand alone. Yes, it took awhile but I finally got around to writing this.

I've got a general layout as to how this will go, but I will take suggestions. Your comments are as always appreciated. Enjoy!


First Steps

~1786~

A sweet music floated through the corridors of the Morgan household. The sound emanating from the harpsichord in the corner of the drawing room had attracted the attention of a young curly headed boy, his wide brown eyes intent upon the figure whose fingers graced the keys as she swayed slightly to the melody.

From the other entrance came a man who, also apparently drawn by the music, approached the woman seated at the instrument. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered something that made her laugh, a warm high musical laugh. After another whispered comment, the music stopped as she accepted his proffered hand with a soft giggle. The silence was now filled instead with the slight creaking of floorboards under their steps. Now in the center of the room the pair danced in that casually intimate way of married couples.

Unbeknownst to them, the young boy watched, fascinated, his parents turn helded in each others' arms. He tore his gaze from the enchanting scene only once, to share a look of disgust with the portrait of a sour looking man in the corridor as the pair fell into the thrall of each others' eyes and lips.

Hesitantly he looked back into the room, to find his father exiting the way he had come. His mother gazed about the room, as though finding her bearings. Her gaze alighted upon, mostly hidden behind the wall; her small smile widened.

"Henry." She exclaimed her discovery. Her voice dropped to a tone of near secrecy. "Come here, darling."

Obeying, Henry came to his mother, intrigued by the promise of her tone. He stood before her expectantly.

"Would you like to learn how to dance?" She asked, still in that conciliatory tone.

Momentarily his decision balanced between the boyhood compunction to answer that he'd 'much rather go out and catch toads' and the intrigue of being taught to dance as he had seen adults do at parties. Finally, he responded, ever trying to be the young gentleman, "Yes, mother, I would."

"Very good, let's begin."

His attempt at mature restraint of childish excitement failing, his request burst from him. "Could I learn how to dance like you and father?"

A small giggle escaped her in response to her little boy's question. "Perhaps when you're a little older and taller, my dear." He deflated slightly, she gave a comforting pat of his untamable curls. "How about I teach you the minuet instead?" She proposed gently.

Henry looked up, a joyful gleam in his eyes, nodding vigorously in ascent.

"Alright then. We begin facing each other." She straightened while he shifted his footing to face her, a few paces between them. "Now, you bow as I curtsy." While she dipped, skirts held out, he bent at his waist as he had been taught. They then continued on with the dance.

Taking the small boy's right hand with her left, she guided him through the repeated step. "Step with your right, then bring your left to meet it at the ankle and dip-" Upon attempting the step, Henry lost his one-footed balance and wobbled dangerously. "Careful darling, stead there." She tightened her hold on his hand to support him. "Let's try that again. Alright?"

He nodded, resolutely.

"Right foot forward." She made the motion and he followed. "Left together. Good! Now, lift your left foot to your ankle." He hesitated. "It's alright, I've got you." He managed to perform this with minimal loss of balance. "And slowly bend your knees a bit. … Wonderful, darling! You're a natural." He responded to his mother's praise by looking up at her with a crooked grin. "Can you do it again though?" She asked, teasingly skeptical.

"Of course!"

"Let's see then."

Without her aid, he maneuvered the first two steps. After which he threw a satisfied look, chin up proudly, toward his mother, causing her to laugh heartily at her little boy's antics.

"What's next?"

"Then we take three quick steps: left, right, left. And repeat it all." Once he had become familiar with the simple steps, she retracted her commentary and hummed the high, sweet, and slow melody of the dance as they proceeded.

So began a tradition between the two of learning, practicing, and enjoying the dances of the era. A tradition which would last for years to come, especially as a way to fill the emptiness of the house when the elder Morgan man was away on business.