Magic isn't for your amusement! Why don't I just do a little dance? Anders' Spicy Shimmy? - Anders
"Commander, is this really necessary?"
Anders looked down, a laugh slipping past his lips before he could contain it. The dwarven woman was glaring at the Commander—eyes only narrowing further when Oghren belched.
"Yes, Sigrun," the blonde woman said. "I'm no happier than you at the prospect of an assembly such as the one our dear seneschal has agreed to host at the Keep. However, since our attendance is not optional, I find I also have no choice but to teach the lot of you how to dance properly."
"With my help, of course," Nathaniel said.
"But you both partnered up with Anders and Velanna! Why do I have to be with him?" Sigrun crossed her arms, vexed. "It's because I'm short, isn't it?"
With an exasperated sigh, Sunniva turned to the drunken dwarf. "Oghren, can you please refrain from your less than savory habits for the duration of this lesson?"
He nodded, swaying a bit. "Aye, whatever you say, Commander." He belched again. "Starting now."
Anders laughed again, softly, but was soon brought to attention by the approach of his partner. The blonde had her hair pulled back into a loose bun, revealing her tattoo—a golden phoenix with red-flamed wings that curved around her left eye. He had never seen it in as full a display as he was now.
"What are you staring at?" she asked, a little irked.
"Nothing, Su—Commander," he amended.
She shrugged as she stopped a few feet from him. "Nathaniel, would you care to explain the dance?"
"Only if you lead it, Sunniva. You have been giving Anders private lessons, if I recall correctly."
With a curt nod, she replied, "I will, and I have." The glare she gave Howe was accompanied by the faint blush that tinged her cheeks. "Let's begin, shall we?" Grinning, Nathaniel bowed his head a little in acquiescence. The double entendre of his statement was misleading, and didn't escape the notice of all but one of the group—Sigrun was still mildly repulsed by her partner, and doing her best to ignore him.
Nathaniel began directing their female companions into a line to Sunniva's left, their respective partners standing across from them to Anders' right. It took everything in the mage to keep from rolling his eyes at the formality of it all, unused to it after so many years in the Circle.
A lone minstrel began to play when signaled, the soft sounds of the rebec reverberating in the open room. Anders bowed to his partner, stepping forward with arms slack at his side, where they met in the center. Their eyes locked as they faced each other, turning together and backing into the spot the other had previously occupied. Moving toward Sunniva, he took her hands in his and fell into the easy rhythm of a dance so recently learned, steadfastly maintaining eye contact with his partner.
Slowly, the sound of Nathaniel's voice faded until nothing remained but the sound of the music, allowing Anders to focus solely on the woman now passing him once again. The allusion that had been made to there being more between them wasn't far off: of there being an attraction on both sides there was no doubt. What he couldn't place was why she resisted. In moments such as these, the tension was almost palpable. The way their arms brushed against each other when their paths crossed in the dance, or the way even she refused to tear her gaze from his—surely she was as aware of it as he?
They turned to walk down the line side-by-side, their hands gently brushing against each other. He heard her inhale sharply, and he cast a glance in her direction. Her cheeks were flushed a deep pink, and though the dance offered up no small amount of exertion, he knew it was due in part to their accidental physical contact.
His suspicions were confirmed when their eyes met once more, hers filled with uncertainty. He could see her vain struggle to hide it from him. As he moved to once again to pass Sunniva in the center, he could swear she paused for a moment when her arm grazed. Her face had darkened further, but not once did her gaze falter.
As the music rose into a crescendo, he found himself consumed by it. The passion the dance invoked was nothing short of breathtaking, and Anders was lost to the moment—to the feel of her skin and the flush that colored her otherwise pale cheeks.
Maker, what was this woman doing to him?
The song began to fade rapidly, and it was a battle of will to complete the final steps of the dance without stumbling. When she looked up to meet his gaze after one final bow, her face had been wiped clean of expression, her eyes equally blank. He furrowed his brow in confusion—what was she on about?
"It seems you have a better grasp of the dance than I would have anticipated, Anders," Nathaniel said, just barely breaking through the haze the mage had been in.
With a glance at his partner—whose eyes still met his without emotion—he turned to Nathaniel and shrugged. "Unlike some people, when I'm told to practice, I practice."
He felt gold eyes boring into the side of his face and suppressed a shiver. Oh, the wrath he may have incurred with one simple statement.
"How does everyone else look?" Sunniva asked.
Nathaniel looked between Anders and their Commander with mild curiosity. "If we can keep Oghren sober enough, I believe we will be successful."
Velanna made a rude noise in the back of her throat. "That's a fool endeavor."
"Sod off, elf," Oghren said through heavy breaths.
"She has a point." Nathaniel's eyes were cast in Anders' direction momentarily before he focused on the group. "I think we will end this lesson, and pick it up again tomorrow afternoon."
"Praise the ancestors," Sigrun said, grinning. She was already heading for the exit when she asked, "Who's joining me to the dining hall?"
One by one they filed out of the main hall, Sunniva close behind. Anders knew she wasn't going to eat. She was simply escaping an uncomfortable situation. At one time, he was content to just let her walk away. She would gather herself and be the same woman who had entered the hall an hour earlier.
This time, he just couldn't let her go.
"Sunniva, wait!" he called, just as she was about to cross the threshold. She turned, and he jogged over to her. "I… want to talk to you."
She narrowed her eyes. "About?"
"You know exactly what about," he said, exasperated. He swept his arm toward the area they had been dancing in. "Surely you must? That dance made it pretty damned obvious, don't you think?"
"I don't know wh—"
"Don't try that with me. By the Maker, Nathaniel knows it. I highly doubt he ended the lesson this early for his convenience." He took a step closer to her. "Why do you withdraw every time something happens? What are you so afraid of?"
Her arms folded across her chest. After a few long moments she said, "I don't know how to do this."
"Come again?"
"This is all new to me." She frowned deeper. "Feelings have never factored into how I've dealt with men. Just in and out and—"
"—move along, there's nothing to see here," he finished. She lifted an eyebrow. "This is me you're talking to. Quick trysts were the definition of a relationship in Kinloch Hold."
She grimaced, and he could see the fleeting pain in her eyes. "And is that all this would be to you?"
"No! For the love of..." He cupped his hands over his face, running them back through his hair hard enough to snap the tie that held it back. "Sunniva, you're impossible, you know that?" When her face remained set in a deep frown, he groaned. "Maker, take it all."
His lips covered hers before she had a chance to react, his hands on either side of her face. He sincerely hoped she didn't have a blade hidden in the sleeveless tunic and leggings she wore as her body went stiff. Unlikely as it was, he had learned to expect the unexpected from rogues.
He stepped back after a moment, looking down at her with more than a little apprehension. She was silent, staring at him in shock. When her hand shot forward, his eyes clenched shut, bracing for the impact. Instead, he felt her fingers dive into his hair as she pulled him back to her.
Her lips moved over his with a surprising fervor, and he responded instinctively, pushing her backward by the hips until she was pinned against the wall. Experienced hands moved over every curve, every muscle, leaving no inch unexplored between the two. His lips moved from hers to kiss along her jawline, down her throat to the nook where neck met shoulder.
A sharp gasp sent an unwanted reminder to the forefront, and Anders reluctantly stepped back. "Sunniva we… we can't," he breathed, meeting her astonished gaze. "Not here. Not like this."
"I…" She straightened, smoothing out the wrinkles in her clothing. "You're right."
He lifted an eyebrow and stared at her. "What do you propose we do?"
"Hmm…" She tapped a finger against her chin, her gaze turned to the ceiling in thought. "Meet me in my quarters after supper for… dancing lessons."
For my sister, twixtnightandmorn. I feel she'd need a pick me up after the news she's been getting. I love you, Sis. Feel better!