A/N: Well, here I am again. This was originally meant to be a simple, sappy, fluffy oneshot. And then I started writing and it became something more complicated. I don't know how long it's going to be anymore. At the moment, I'm debating whether to add a human element to the conflict later on. We'll see what happens. Hope you enjoy. Leave me some love. Or not. You know, whatever.

Dance with the Count

Chapter 1: Viscount Fabre

The young blonde pulled away, desperation shining in his bright blue eyes. Natalia could only stare at him in shock, one hand absently brushing her tingling lips. She was not used to such forward behavior, especially from him.

The distant look in her hazel eyes brought a touch of defeat to his own. "Princess," he breathed, his shoulders heaving. Her attention still seemed elusive. "Please," he begged, his hands grasping her shoulders firmly as he stared into her eyes. "Tell me you felt something. Tell me you were thinking of me and not him."

This brought her gaze back into focus. "Him?" she repeated curiously. "Who are you talking about?"

The blonde count's eyes clouded angrily. "That filthy servant. You're in love with him, aren't you? You've been having some sort of affair behind my back."

Her brows furrowed in disbelief. "N-No," she stuttered out, as it finally dawned on her what had happened. "No, you've got it wrong. I was… I was only trying to help him."

This. This was a grand mess indeed. She really had only been trying to help, at her cousin's request. Now the young Malkuth noble was angry and jealous, and their courtship lay in grave danger.

…but could she honestly say that his accusations were groundless? The odd fluttering in her stomach as her mind wandered off to the object of the count's jealousy gave her the answer she sought.

This was all Luke's fault…

She felt bad for him, really. A scant few weeks back, and the poor Viscount was being forced upon high society in the most dreadful manner. As far as Natalia could tell, though, Luke seemed to be handling the whole thing with a certain amount of grace, even if his social skills were a little… rough. In hindsight, however, tonight was probably not the best night for announcing the return of the missing hero.

It had become an annual tradition since his disappearance. A ceremony was held in Baticul in honor of Auldrant's fallen hero. The customary month-long mourning period was observed, followed closely thereafter by a seven-day celebratory Peace Gala in Grand Chokmah – in honor of the heroes who still remained. As this was only the third incidence of this opulent occasion, the whole affair still struck the small group of honored guests as a bit awkward.

Since he hadn't had much chance since his reappearance to spend time with the group as a whole, Luke had insisted on going, despite the misgivings of the more politically-minded individuals. And as expected, his presence at the Gala had caused a sizable stir among the guests. He had been swamped since his arrival with attention and questions, effectively separating him from the friends he had come to visit with. And for that, the Kimlascan princess pitied him.

Perhaps 'pity' was the wrong word for the precise feeling she was having, watching him chat idly with various dignitaries about the goings-on of the world over the last few years. No, 'possessiveness' might be a bit closer, though still a bit too strong. She turned the word over in her head as she sipped delicately at her wine flute. 'Possessive' would have to do for now. She wasn't jealous, per se. She just wished he would spend a little more time with his friends.

With her.

A slight pang of disappointment tugged at her chest when she remembered that she wasn't exactly his first choice for company. 'Jealousy' would fit here, she decided, adding a small flush of shame to the strange mix of emotions churning in her heart. As unbecoming as she knew it was, she just couldn't help it. It just didn't seem fair. They were happy. It wasn't necessarily that she was jealous of Tear, exactly. She was just jealous of them in general. How many nights she'd gazed out at the horizon and silently begged him to return to her…

But he hadn't come back. Not really, anyway. And seeing Luke walk around wearing his face was nothing short of disturbing. Not to mention heartbreaking. She had held so much hope during those last few weeks, only to have them dashed by three tiny little words. "Asch is dead." Those words haunted her nightmares and made her throat go dry.

She would have liked to think that she had been doing better. Two years had gone by. Even if the others had always clung to a fleeting hope, she had, in a way, accepted the loss of her childhood friend. Of course, she'd always remained open to the possibility. But she'd also released him from his promise to her, so in her mind, all was – if not right – at least bearable.

And then, on a clear night one month prior, as the friends gathered in their own sort of memorial ceremony, he had come waltzing right back into her life and turned it upside-down.

As if to punctuate that particular thought, the host of the event – Emperor Peony himself, in all his glory – chose that exact moment to appear at the front of the ballroom and address his guests. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, bringing the soft ballad of the musicians to a gentle close. "Esteemed guests. At this point in the festivities, we would like to honor Auldrant's heroes, both those who are here with us, and those who could not be." A somber tone settled over the room. "Mystearica, if you would, do me the honor of singing for our guests?"

Tear certainly did look lovely this evening, she mused to herself as the fonist took her place next to the Emperor. She seemed a lot less reluctant this time, as well, giving off only a slight blush that nicely complimented her deep maroon gown. Natalia sighed softly, a strange sort of sadness falling over her as the Grand Fonic Hymn filled the silent room with its haunting melody. Ion may have found it nostalgic, others might find it soothing, but Natalia just found it painful to remember. Not unbearably so, but in a way that left her feeling bitter and uncomfortable.

Coming rather abruptly to a decision – and acting on it before she could change her mind – Natalia set her flute down on a passing servant's tray and marched deliberately in the Viscount's direction. Her simple teal gown rustled softly as her matching slippers clicked in time with her gait, adding a sense of determination to her movements. It wasn't long before she had crossed the room and was standing before him, just as the last strains of Tear's voice faded away. "Luke, dance with me."

The look on his face as he turned in her direction was positively dumbfounded. She stifled a smile at how out of place his expression seemed with his smart black uniform. "Um… What?"

Folding her dainty hands in front of her, she put on her most regal air as she repeated herself, making sure to speak slowly and clearly so as to avoid further misunderstanding. "Viscount Fabre," she stated, her voice carrying no signs of irritation. "I would be most honored if you would accompany me on the dance floor for a turn. Provided, of course," she added, glancing in the direction of a curiously approaching Tear, "your lady escort has no objections?" She finished her request with a flourishing curtsy, much to the surprise of the observing dignitaries.

Tear's look of confusion melted into something resembling sympathy, a knowing smile spreading across her delicate features. "I don't mind at all," she replied sincerely. "You should go dance with her, Luke."

Luke still looked utterly blind-sided, however. "Uh… Okay, but… Natalia, you know I don't dance very well, right?"

"Oh, it's just a waltz, silly, and not a very fast one at that." The princess tugged insistently on his arm, to which he finally relented, following her reluctantly out to the center of the floor.

"Not to be rude or anything," he said quietly, scratching at the back of his head with his free hand, "but couldn't you… I mean, there must be a hundred guys here you could dance with…"

She shook her head firmly, refusing to meet his eyes. In fact, she hadn't looked him in the eye all night. "You're my friend. I want to dance with you."

"Guy's your friend, too," he pointed out innocently. "And it looks like he could use the help."

She glanced over briefly to where the recently reinstated Count Gardios had somehow gotten himself cornered by a flock of giggling young ladies, all hoping to win his attentions for the remainder of the evening. He looked altogether flustered and very uncomfortable. With a sigh, she averted her gaze and turned to face her cousin. "Somehow, I don't think asking Guy to dance would help much," she stated solemnly. Besides, she finished silently, this is important.

Luke smiled a bit, reaching out awkwardly to take her in his arms as the waltz began. "So… what is this… really about, then?" he asked, the question coming out broken as he tried to concentrate on what his feet were doing.

Natalia subconsciously took the lead so he wouldn't have to concentrate quite so hard. The steps came naturally to her, having been bred into her muscles since childhood. "I… I have to ask you something," she began, a bit hesitantly.

His face fell a bit. "This is about Asch, isn't it?"

A slight blush crept across her face. "How did you…"

"Because it's…" He floundered for a bit, trying to find the right words. "It's not really fair to you." He misstepped, but she ignored it. "I mean, in all of this… Of everyone, I think you were the only one who really cared for him." Again she refused to look him in the eye. "Natalia…" he breathed, his voice dripping with sympathy. "I know this probably isn't going to help, but… but I'm kind of both."

"What… What do you mean?" she asked, swallowing carefully past the lump in her throat.

He hesitated a moment. "It's… hard to explain. I'm not even really sure I get it sometimes, but… Well…" His voice lowered, his eyes casting about to make sure nobody was listening in too closely. "My body was disappearing. And Asch had already left his. So Lorelei… kinda… patched us together somehow." He paused, his eyes growing distant as he tried to put the concept into simple words. "Asch is still inside me somewhere. And it's his body. But… But it's my feelings and my memories that came back." He grew apologetic then, his gaze coming back to her. "Like I said, I know that doesn't really help."

For several moments, she didn't breathe a word, pondering what he had said. A strange sort of expression settled over her features as she felt the last sparks of her hope dying away at last. It was heart wrenching, and yet at the same time… peaceful. For the first time since his return, her acceptance felt justified. "It does, actually," she responded after a moment, finally bringing her hazel-green eyes up to meet his gaze. "Thank you, Luke."

A look of uncertainly crossed his face as he studied her misty eyes. "You'd rather have Asch back, wouldn't you?"

She shook her head, but not too quickly. "No, not exactly. I would rather have both of you back, and I suppose that's exactly what I've got." She gave him a pointed look. "It's not your fault things didn't turn out like I expected."

After a moment's contemplation, the Viscount spoke up again. "Natalia… I know this is hard to hear right now, but… I think you should start… I don't know, accepting suitors or something." At the shocked look she threw him, he winced. "Now, let me finish. For most of your life, you've only had one person to think about spending your life with. And now… I just think, it would be best for you if… if you start letting yourself think about other guys."

Her first instinct was to deny his advice immediately, but his words sounded so heartfelt that she forced herself to consider them. "You don't think it's too soon?" she asked carefully.

"Well, it has been… Wait, how long has it been?"

"Two years," she replied. That's right, it had been quite a while. And maybe… Just maybe this was one way to make it more fair.

"Count Feurig? Really?"

Natalia gave a huff of exasperation and scuffed a slippered sole against the garden walkway. The gentle summer breeze rustled the branches of the tree that sheltered the bench they sat on, adding a peaceful background to their conversation. "Don't say his name like that," she scolded, blushing a little for who knows what reason. "Besides, weren't you the one who said I should begin considering suitors?"

Luke shrugged, his initial shock ebbing a bit. "Well… Yeah. I just… didn't expect you to pick him."

"For the record," the princess continued, with no small amount of indignation, "Count Feurig is an upstanding, intelligent young man. He has a mature disposition and a brilliant personality."

"Hey, you don't have to convince me," the Viscount stated, bringing his hands up to melodramatically defend himself from her verbal attack.

"Besides," she posited smugly, "he's from Malkuth. This could help strengthen the peace between our countries."

Luke gave her a pointed look. "But… But… Why him? There wasn't… anyone else?"

Brows furrowed over hazel eyes as she studied her cousin carefully. "Why do you dislike him so much, Luke?"

He shuffled his feet, clearly hesitant to say what exactly was on his mind. "I don't… dislike him, per se. I just… You hardly know him, and…"

Ah. So he was being the protective friend, then. "Luke, we're hardly engaged," she laughed, trying to ease his discomfiture. "It's a courtship, nothing more. A chance for me to discover what is best for our country." She paused a moment before adding, "And for me."

The redhead's unease didn't dissipate as quickly as she had hoped. "Still don't understand why it had to be him," he grumbled petulantly.

Natalia simply sighed and turned her gaze to the dancing leaves overhead. "There's just no pleasing you, is there?" A comfortable silence fell over them as she watched the shifting patterns of the sunlight. At last, her voice continued in a much softer tone, as if she was trying patiently to make a child understand. "Out of all the men who came looking for a chance at my hand, he was the most promising. He's… gentle and respectful. He has plenty of good opinions about the state of the world, and he has a very engaging manner of conversation. He's a fine young man…" Trailing off, she let her gaze wander aimlessly. "The only true gentleman of the bunch."

An odd expression crossed Luke's face as he heard this, almost as if he had suddenly realized something and found it decidedly unsatisfactory. Surprisingly, though, he didn't voice whatever thought had come to him. Instead, he leaned back casually, a look of quiet contemplation on his face. Again, she searched for just the right word to describe his change in demeanor. It was definitely not 'acceptance', nor was it 'defeat'.

…'Calculating'?

Before she had a chance to explore the possibility further, his voice broke through her train of thought. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something. Sort of a favor, I guess."

Her gaze turned to him as she hummed questioningly in response, thoughts of the handsome blonde count slowly fading from her mind. "Oh? What sort of favor?"

He fidgeted a bit, though not out of embarrassment. No, it was something else… "It's… It's not really a favor for me. I was just thinking… You remember how, at the dance, you said that you didn't think you'd be much help to Guy? Well, I was thinking, and… I think you're wrong."

Hazel eyes widened a bit in wonder, but she made no response, waiting instead for him to finish his clearly-scrambled thought. "I-I didn't mean it like that," he stuttered out quickly in defense. "I just… I mean, you two have known each other for so long. I think… I think you're the perfect person to help him with his… problem. That's all."

She pursed her lips together, thinking over his words carefully. What he said actually made a good amount of sense to her, as shocking as that was. Clearly he'd given quite a lot of thought to this. "Your request, then?"

He hesitated only a moment before jumping right in, scratching at the back of his head and avoiding her gaze as he did so. "Just give it a shot. You know, see what you can do for him. Just, you know, as a favor to me. He's my friend, and I want to see him happy."

"You don't think he's happy now?" she asked thoughtfully.

Luke was beginning to look and sound a bit flustered. "Well, he can't really get close to anyone," he shrugged. "It's kinda like… you and me. It's not really fair."

Natalia's eyes sparkled a bit as she watched him shift around uncomfortably. "That's very sweet of you, looking out for him like that." She gave him a small, proud smile. "All right. I'm still not sure how much help I'm going to be, but for you, I'll give it a try."

Tear came to find him shortly after Natalia had taken her leave. The melodist still couldn't help but worry about him, though he'd been back for several months. Too much time separated from him, and fear would begin to grip her heart. She just needed to see him – safe, corporeal, tangible – to ease her anxious mind.

But as she approached the garden bench on which he sat, staring absently at the ground in front of him, she saw… that look again. "Why?" she breathed softly, hesitant to break the surreal atmosphere that surrounded him. "Why are you pushing her so hard?"

The question was more out of curiosity than anything. It wasn't like Luke to meddle in other people's intimate business like this. And he knew it. But when he lifted his gaze to meet hers, she saw it. His eyes hard and cold, a distant spark that she couldn't quite reach or comprehend gleaming somewhere far in their depths. He was like this sometimes lately, though not often. And somehow she knew…

…She knew that he was momentarily lost again.

He took a shuddering breath, but the look in his eyes never wavered. "Because it's what I want," he replied, his voice strained and ready to break. "I want her to smile. I want her to move on. I want her to look at me without pain in her eyes."

And then, without warning, it was as if the clouds lifted and the sun was once again shining through. His eyes cleared, his expression softened, and he gazed at her with an almost apologetic smile. "Tear." He whispered her name gently, as if she had somehow pulled him back from some terrible nightmare.

She only sighed and sat beside him, leaning a head on his shoulder as she quietly hummed her Hymn for him. These episodes were brief and infrequent, and they no longer scared her like they used to. She could always quiet his nerves afterwards with her singing. But all the same, she desperately hoped that his quiet meddling would finally put the ghost to rest.