Authoress' Notes: The very short story is one written a while
back that I found in a folder unfinished. So I
finished it last night, being the insomniac that I am, at about four
in the morning. This has got to
be my favorite couple in the Lodoss War Records. Etoh is so kawaii!
Erm, anyway, please read
and review, but be nice ^_^. I'm sensitive...
Disclaimer: I never said that they were mine, so don't sue.
Any summons will be promptly
ignited and cast into my fireplace. Seriously, they belong to...
whomever they belong to; you
know who you are.
The view to the road from the third story window
was obscured by ice, causing the
white-robed cleric who was currently occupying it no end of irritation.
The snow fell heavy and
hard, marring his vision further, as well as creating a hazard for
anyone attempting to clean the
window. The priest didn't know why he bothered straining to see.
No. That wasn't true. He stood
at that window, his guestroom window in the castle of
King Fahn, every day, anticipating his friend's safe return.
He never stood for too long, just an
hour out of each day, waiting faithfully as the soft flakes of winter's
advent turned to the icy,
harsh flakes of later in the season.
But his friend had not returned. It had
been months - well into the fourth month now -
and Parn hadn't come back from his mission in Flaim, the desert kingdom;
a mission that wasn't
calculated to take more than three months. If he stopped lying
to himself and lost his faith, he
would believe Parn was-
The cleric refused to think of it. But...
he felt so helpless! He had always been at his
friend's side, protecting him and covering his back. And, he
was sad to admit, Parn certainly
lacked in skill. The knight needed him there to help.
These same thoughts had tormented him for weeks,
never allowing his faith to bring him
peace of mind. And others had noticed. He saw it in their
eyes as they passed; he heard it in
their voices, some underlying current in a seemingly pleasant conversation.
No one spoke of it,
however. No one except Fianna...
Etoh sighed and let his thoughts drift, still
staring disconsolately through the frosted
window. He didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching from behind.
"Etoh?"
The sweet voice penetrated his reverie.
The cleric forced a cheerful expression and
turned to greet her, though he knew very well the mask never fooled
her.
"Hello, Fianna. How are you?"
"It's you I'm concerned about. I'm never
well when you're like this." She flashed him a
reprimanding look.
Etoh smiled thinly. "You should be more
concerned for your own health, Fianna. I'll be
fine."
"But I do worry about you!" she said, quickly
closing the distance between them and
taking his hand, much to the priest's surprise. "I feel there
must be something I can do to help!"
Her pea green eyes pleaded with him. "I wish I knew how to brighten
your spirits."
He clasped her hands with his other one.
"I'm afraid very little would cheer me, my
dear."
"Nonsense! Now, what can I do..."
Fianna's eyes flew open in excitement. "Ooh, I
know!"
Some little voice inside told Etoh that he
should be frightened. He smiled nervously. It
wasn't that he didn't trust her, it was just that she often talked
him into doing things that made
him feel awkward - unintentionally, of course.
Fianna grinned broadly, obviously pleased with
her idea and doing nothing to alleviate
Etoh's fear. Then she cried, "Dancing Lessons!"
"No! I mean, no, that's quite alright."
He waved his hands in a negating gesture, backing
up against the window sill.
"Yes! Come on," she insisted, taking
his hands again and pulling him away from the
wall. "It'll take your mind off of Parn, and it gives you an
excuse to put your arms around me."
The priest flushed scarlet. "Your feet will never recover!"
She flashed him that you're-exaggerating-as-an-excuse-and-I-won't-put-up-with-it
look
and sighed. Then she curved her mouth in a pout; it was the only
face Etoh could never deny.
He winced as if stricken.
"You don't want to dance with me?" she asked,
eyes large and twinkling for emphasis,
tone sorrowful.
He swallowed harshly, knowing there was no
escape. "I want to dance with you, but I'm
no good at it." It was close enough to the truth. He did
want to dance with her, and he wasn't
good at it by any standards. He just wasn't sure dancing with
the beautiful princess was the best
idea...
"That's exactly why I'm teaching you, silly!
Who will I dance with at the next ball if you
don't learn?"
"There are many men who would die for the chance, Fianna."
"But none that I want to dance with."
An awkward silence descended. Etoh, blushing
at the implication, remembered the last
ball held at the castle for Fianna's safe return. She had danced
with many men that night, but
never more than once. He, however, had been asked by the princess
of Valis several times.
Although inexperienced, he had never denied her, but he often wondered
why she kept asking to
have her feet stepped on. Fianna never complained and always
seemed pleased.
Instead of expressing these thoughts aloud,
he merely nodded his approval. The happy
radiance of her smile was worth any doubts he may have harbored.
"We'll begin at arms' width," Fianna instructed,
placing her right arm at his waist and
twining her left hand with his. When his other hand remained
limp at his side, she moved it to
her waist for him. "Now, with no music to dance to, it'll be
somewhat difficult to keep a steady
rhythm, but I think you'll do fine. Just look straight ahead
into my eyes and follow the rhythm I
set, okay?"
Forcing himself to relax, the cleric smiled
and nodded. Fianna began to move slowly,
setting the rhythm at half the momentum of a pendulum. Staring
down at his feet, he moved
easily with her footsteps. She removed her hand from his waist
to tilt his head up, breaking his
gaze from the floor, indicating she wanted him to keep his eyes on
hers.
This lazy pace was kept until Etoh showed signs
of improvement, his movements
becoming less awkward, eyes trained. Fianna created a segue into
a slightly faster step,
positioning herself closer to his body.
Although the movement was conducted with fluent
grace, Etoh was thrown off step
momentarily. He quickly recovered himself, grinning sheepishly.
The princess regarded him
with the fond smile he'd seen so often when he was clumsy - the one
that never failed to make
his blood tingle.
They waltzed to their own silent melody, heard
only in the heart. The snow outside
ceased its own white dance, ignored and unnoticed. Sound was
confined to soft footfalls on a
stone floor and slightly quickened breath as it passed over sensitive
ears. Sensation was
restricted to cool fabric under heated fingertips. All that existed
was within their arms.
Throughout it all, Etoh never missed a step, even when his twilight-haired
partner drew him
nearer still, flush against her body.
Her scent - sakura blossoms and apricots -
invaded his senses, made him lightheaded and
weak. When he disentangled their hands, Fianna halted, and the
priest's befuddled mind didn't
register the lack of motion. His free hand moved between them
to tilt Fianna's chin higher, then
his lips sought her own in a chaste but nevertheless passionate kiss.
Momentarily, Etoh broke away, if only slightly.
"I... I'm sorry," he murmured against her
lips. Gazing at the princess from underneath his lashes, he noted
her eyes were still shut, mouth
parted the tiniest bit. Swallowing thickly, he rose to full height
once more.
Pea green irises revealed themselves under
heavy lids as Fianna looked upon the blushing
Etoh. Her voice was nearly a breath as she spoke, "Don't be,
love."
"I, uh, I knew this would hap-."
"Shhh." Further protest was soon muffled
with another kiss. Fianna's arms locked
behind his neck, allowing the priest no escape.
The door swung open behind them. The advancing booted feet halted abruptly.
"If I'm interrupting, I could come back later..."
Both turned, flushing, toward the intruder.
But their shock lasted only as long as it took
for the two to see the face of the figure in the doorway.
"Parn!" cried Etoh merrily. "We were, uh... just dancing."