Disclaimer: the characters and concepts of Merlin are not my property and I am not attempting to profit from them.
Day 8 of my New Year's Project...anyone who's following my schedule (if such a creature exists) may note that this oneshot was scheduled for tomorrow. I moved it up because the one I had ready for today suddenly revealed itself to be terrible.
I've recently gotten into ballroom dancing, and I miss it. I needed something to cheer me up after writing "The Commendable Institution". This oneshot seemed like a logical solution to both problems.
She's fiendishly nervous as he leads her to the dance floor. Gaius' last-minute instruction yesterday was less than reassuring; she tread all over Merlin's feet, and neither of them seemed able to keep in time with the other. Now, she has to try and dance without embarrassing her new husband in front of his entire court.
"Guinevere," Arthur says as he turns her to face him, "Relax. You look like you're about to be devoured by a dragon."
She tries to smile up at him, all-too-conscious of the many watching eyes.
"I'm afraid that I'm going to make a mess of this," she says softly.
"Nonsense," he says, utterly confident, "Come here."
He tugs at her hand and she steps unthinkingly into his arms.
"Now. This hand on my shoulder, just there, your arm on top of mine. Press your weight back into my arm. More. More than that. Don't worry, I'm not going to drop you. Now, give me your other hand."
She tries nervously to do as he says, feeling the eyes of the whole court on the back of her neck, very aware that every second of hesitation will be starting more of the whispers that have plagued the court throughout their courtship and still more since her exile and return. It's an odd position; she's been in his arms before, but now every detail of their position seems calculated to make her feel small. She's hemmed in, or at least she feels that way. His arm takes her weight as if it were nothing at all, seemingly immovable. His hand is big and warm at her shoulder. His chest is broad and solid in front of her, and she's standing so close that, with his greater height, he's very nearly all she can see. Even the hand that holds hers seems suddenly huge, though she's held his hand dozens of times. She couldn't escape if she wanted to. She's not entirely sure that she doesn't.
"Now. The waltz step is long, short, together; long, short, together; but that's not the most important part."
She smiles weakly and asks the question she knows he's looking for:
"What is the most important part, Arthur?"
"The most important part," he says gently, blue eyes tender, "Is trust. Do you trust me, Guinevere Pendragon?"
It's a fair question, after the events of the past few months. There's some part of her that still can't believe that he's really taken her back, that he won't reconsider and send her back to Ealdor as soon as he realizes his mistake. There's some part of her that believes that he'd be right if he did. She takes a deep breath and adjusts her left hand where it lies on his shoulder, shaping her palm around the muscle. Her fingertips come to rest in the little valley below his collarbone, as naturally as if they were made to fit there. He's still watching her, and she realizes that she can feel his pulse under her fingers, steady and strong.
"Don't worry about them," he says softly, "You're not dancing with them. Do you trust me?"
She presses into the hand at her back and gives him a tentative nod.
"Say it, Guinevere."
"I trust you, Arthur."
"And you'll follow me?"
She nods again.
"I'll stay with you." She thinks he understands that she means more than just this dance. Something in his eyes relaxes, and he smiles down at her.
"Excellent. Then everything else is easy." He releases her hand for a moment to wave to the musicians.
"Ready…"
He begins.
The first step is a little awkward, but she catches the motion in his shoulders and, suddenly, they're in rhythm. Still, they're very close together, far closer than she and Merlin in her lessons, and surely, surely she's going to trip over him…
How can such a big man be so light on his feet? He's nimbler than she is, though he must weigh half as much again. Something of her surprise must show in her face because he grins smugly down at her.
"Don't look so surprised, Guinevere. You'll injure my pride."
"How can someone your size…?"
"There's more to swordplay than brute force," Arthur draws himself up proudly, "Agility is a warrior's first weapon." He relaxes a little and concedes, "Besides, we've only done the box step so far. I haven't even tried any turns yet. I—any courtier— could do this much in my sleep."
"Turns?" Gwen, who had almost succeeded in relaxing into the step, is suddenly terrified again. The word comes out almost as a squeak, and she missteps. He effortlessly rights her and goes on as if nothing has happened.
"Well, turns aren't particularly difficult either," Arthur says, "Hold onto my shoulder and don't lose the rhythm. Ready?"
"No!"
"Trust me," he says again. She takes another deep breath, and suddenly they're travelling, turning in a neat quarter-circle with each step. It's not so different from before, except that she has to rely even more on the support and guidance of his arms.
They're silent for a while as she adjusts to the new pattern. It's rapid and dizzying, but she finds that she likes the way they move together, the way he can tell her where to go with a twitch of his wrist. She likes being able to feel the rhythm in his shoulder, and the way he lifts her half off the ground when they round a corner. She likes the way that they can stand so close, brushing but never colliding despite the speed with which they're moving. She likes the way he holds her with both confidence and care, like she's something familiar but precious.
"Easy, isn't it?" he says. "Don't look so stunned. You're doing very well."
"It's nothing like dancing with Merlin." He snorts.
"It wouldn't be."
She gives him a reproving look, and he hastens to clarify.
"First of all, Merlin, despite his many undoubtedly excellent qualities, is not accustomed to dancing. He has no confidence, and confidence is very, very important. I'm an excellent dancer, and I know it. Second…" The music is approaching its climax, and he suddenly adjusts his grip on her, pulling her closer and changing the step so that they're twirling in earnest, a full half-turn for each step, body to body and weightless. She's breathless and dizzy, struggling to hold on to the pattern, but his voice is steady and relentless in her ear and his arm is strong at her back, supporting her, "I am yours, no matter what, and you are mine, now and forever, and we both know it. That makes all the difference in the world."
He pulls her to him, and before she knows what's happening he's dipped her back as if she weighed nothing at all. She clasps her hands behind his neck and relaxes into his embrace, limp and overwhelmed but suddenly totally comfortable. He's not going to let her go.
"Doesn't it, Guinevere?" He looks down into her eyes and waits for her answer.
"Yes, Arthur." She smiles like sunshine and makes the words a promise.
The court is clapping as he bends to kiss her. He tries to set her back on her feet, but her legs give way and he slips an arm around her waist in support, turning her to face their people.
"Did I do well?" she asks.
He looks at her in wonder.
"Do you really have any doubts on that score?"
She meets his eyes, hopeful and tentative.
"You said that those were only simple steps."
"Guinevere, given the effect you appear to have on my heart with 'only simple steps', I think adding anything elaborate might be dangerous to my health." She smiles in pleasure.
"In that case, perhaps we'd better rest a bit. Time enough for you to teach me more later."
"A whole lifetime's worth of time," Arthur says, and smiles. "Imagine what good partners we could become."
Big thanks to my lovely and talented beta, Cajast.
BTW: I am aware that the waltz is not even remotely from the proper time period. Two reasons that it's in there anyway: 1) I know it, and I don't know any period dances and 2) the show itself pays no attention to real history.
In any case, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed (I'd love to hear from you if you did).