Hello, hello dear readers! Here we go with part two of the royal ball arc! There is no flashback for this chapter as the main story got a little lengthy, and let's be honest, I don't think there's a piece of backstory that could actually influence this chapter. Don't get me wrong there's plenty of backstory to tell, but royal balls are more fun.

It is my sincerest hope that you will enjoy!

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Friday, August 28, 1513

The very air of the room seemed to glow with the electric energy of a royal ball. The sparkling light of the crystal chandelier grew brighter and brighter as the midnight blue of the evening deepened outside the massive windows, illuminated occasionally by flashes of white hot lightening. Tables had been set to the left of the glamorous doorway, adorned with pristine white tablecloths and golden candles encased in spheres of glass. A dance floor sat to the right, floor polished so thoroughly that the marble could have been a well-maintained mirror. Couples clad in the finest of eveningwear danced and chatted and laughed their cares away through the room. Despite the storm raging outside, it appeared that the entire kingdom had still made it out for the event. And the rain certainly hadn't put a damper on the excitement or the enchantment of the ball either.

"Wow," Marco sighed, watching the glimmering spectacle from behind a curtain of gold colored velvet.

"Marco. Seriously. We get it. That's the tenth time you've made a comment about the party in five minutes," Connie said, exasperation thick in his voice as he tapped his foot impatiently against the floor.

"Oh, he's just excited," Sasha chastised him, hitting his shoulder lightly, careful not to disturb the wrinkle-free state of his black suit jacket.

"Tch," Jean clicked his tongue. "Aren't we all? Jaeger's got a clear shot at Mikasa right now. How am I supposed to win her over if she can't even see how charming I look in this suit?"

"You'll get your turn, be patient," Marco replied, the light creeping in from behind the curtain illuminating the freckles dusting his face, making his grin look almost childlike. "Besides, we're working right now." The brunette turned from the curtain to smile at Historia.

The queen smiled back. "And rest assured, if I had anything to say about it, we'd be out there right now. I'm just as antsy as you guys," she said. Her hands rose to adjust her hair, but she caught herself before her fingers made contact. Hitch had been adamant that the queen's hair must not be touched to avoid it falling and losing it's 'royal touch'. Historia had yet to figure out how a 'royal touch' could be lost when one was wearing a tiara, but figure that was a matter for another time. She also wasn't quite sure how it could fall considering it was only pulled up halfway, two braids framing the sides of her head and a waterfall of curls falling around her shoulders beneath them, and of course the tiara on top.

"But what's a royal ball without a royal entrance, am I right?" Connie commented, peeking out of the curtain like Marco had. "And this is you're first ball on the throne. It's like a show off party. 'Look! We got a new queen! Look at how cute she is! Bask in her glory!'"

Historia laughed. "I don't think it's exactly like that…"

"Still. It's your first official party as queen," Jean said, settling his arms across his chest. "How does it feel?"

"Magnificent!" the blonde girl answered happily. "I'll take this to meetings any day!"

Marco laughed. "What? You mean to tell us that sitting in a stuffy room all day with an assembly of nobles is less fun than dancing the night away? Historia, I'm surprised at you!" The playful sarcasm in his voice earned an even brighter smile from the young monarch.

Historia shrugged. "Maybe it's because you can't do this at meetings." The blonde girl spun around three times, the skirts of her scarlet gown billowing out around her ankles like an umbrella, swooping gracefully even after she'd stopped spinning.

"Isn't that the best part of wearing these dresses?" Sasha exclaimed, mimicking Historia's twirling, her own violet skirts twirling around her ankles.

"Aw, no fair," Connie exclaimed. He spun on his heel. Only the very ends of his suit vest flared an inch away from his body. The boy frowned. "Suits can't do anything that cool."

"What do you mean? Suits can do plenty of cool things," Sasha said, gently stroking Connie's shaved head. "For one, this suit managed to make you look handsome. That's a feat." Connie shrugged away from Sasha's hand as the others laughed.

"Yeah, and you've done a spectacular job coordinating colors with Sasha," Jean commented slyly. Sasha blushed, looking off at the floor as Connie glared daggers at Jean, his own face turning the color of a tomato. The sandy haired boy offered him a devious grin. The ends of the gold curtain parted slightly, revealing Sir Edros. His eyes searched the faces behind the curtain until they landed on Historia with a gentle smile.

"It's show time, your majesty," the man said. Historia nodded, moving towards the Prime Minister and carefully looping her arm around his proffered elbow. She turned and gave her guards another smile before Sir Edros pulled her out from behind the curtain into the sparkling splendor of the ballroom. From the small, elevated stage they stood on, Historia could see the entirety of the room, from the glittering decorations to the colorful gowns the ladies wore. It was breathtaking.

Sir Edros stepped to the front of the stage, pulling Historia along with him. "Good evening, people of Gaiola," the man began, his voice booming around the ballroom and causing an excited silence to ripple through the sea of guests until everyone was quiet with anticipation. The Prime Minister, dressed black suit with accents of white and gold to match the décor, fixed a winning smile on the crowd as he continued: "We are so pleased to have you with us tonight to join in the celebration of the coronation of our new queen!" A round of applause thundered through the room. Historia felt a wave of butterflies flutter through her stomach as she smiled out at her people.

"I promise I'll keep this speech short to avoid any unwanted interruptions," Sir Edros said jokingly. A few chuckles sounded in reply. "As you may know, our newly ascended queen is many years younger than our dear, deceased King Fritz. At the lovely age of sixteen, Historia is the youngest monarch to claim our throne." The Prime Minister glanced sideways at Historia as he spoke, pride glowing in his eyes and voice as he continued: "But do not let her age deceive you. She is as clever as she is beautiful, courageous as she is kind. Historia is the queen Gaiola needs, and the one it deserves, and I know that she will give her heart to lead and protect this kingdom to the last. I hope that you will all return the favor and serve your kingdom as you would yourself, just as your queen will certainly do for you."

Historia was so spellbound by the man's words that it took her a second to put together that the lightheartedly encouraging smile he was giving her was a prompt to speak herself. The blonde girl turned to the people, beaming as she began: "I would like to formally affirm everything Sir Edros has just said. I pledge my heart to this kingdom and promise to serve you until my last breath. I don't know about all the things he said about being brave or clever or beautiful, but I do know that I have the willingness to do whatever it takes to be a kind, fair, strong monarch, and I intend to do just that. Thank you all for the wonderful welcome you have given me. Ascending the throne is not as easy as it may seem, and I consider myself the luckiest girl in the world to serve such a kind hearted, supportive kingdom. Without your faith, I do not know if I would have survived this first week."

She paused as light laughter followed her statement. "I'm serious! Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. I am honored to serve this kingdom and hope to be the queen you deserve. Let me welcome you once again to the royal festivities. Have a wonderful evening!"

The cheering and clapping that followed her speech left her glowing, and praying that her face hadn't turned the color of her gown. She beamed as her eyes scanned the faces of her citizens. They all looked so happy, so impressed, so confident in her abilities, so proud. Historia tucked away that image to pull out on a rainy day.

"Let the evening begin!" Sir Edros announced with a flourish of the hand. The orchestra began to play a fun, upbeat number and the people fell right into step, like pieces of clockwork. Laughter and casual banter rang in time with the music as partners circled around the floor, the ladies' gowns an array of dazzling colors as they spun and twirled. Sir Edros lead Historia back to her guards and gave them all permission to join the fun before disappearing to meet up with the other royal ministers, also dressed in suits of black with gold and white accents.

"The night is young, and so are we," Connie said with a dramatic lilt in his voice. The boy gave an overly dramatic bow, sweeping his arm above his head. "Shall we to the dance, my friends?"

"Let's show them how the queen's royal guard gets funky with it," Marco replied enthusiastically.

"Please tell everyone that when we get out on the dance floor," Jean said, sarcasm thick in his voice. Marco threw his arm around Jean's shoulder.

"Just for you, I will," he joked. Historia giggled as she walked along behind them, heart racing with anticipation and excitement. She'd been to a handful of balls before, just enough to count on one hand, but never one so elegant or important. Nor had she ever been the star before. But walking towards the dance floor, surrounded by Marco's cheerful smile, Jean's genuine laughter, and the adorable, oblivious flirting going on between Sasha and Connie behind her, the fun of the evening ran through her veins like liquid gold.

"Hey guys!"

The group turned to see Armin moving towards them, waving with a big smile on his face and bringing Mikasa and Eren along with him. The blonde boy looked dashing as ever in a black suit coat with a green vest underneath and his hair gelled away from his face. Eren wore a similar outfit, his vest the same royal blue as the gown Mikasa was wearing, an elegantly simple piece that looked like it was made for the raven-haired girl.

"Well, don't we clean up nice," Marco said, sounding impressed as he drunk in the sight of the trio. "Mikasa, you look gorgeous."

"Doesn't she?" Eren asked rhetorically. His eyes slid down the length of Mikasa's dress as a smile lit up his face. "She looks like she could be a princess, am I right?"

"Eren," Mikasa said as a blush illuminated her cheeks. Jean's spine stiffened.

"What? It's the truth!" the brunette argued. "I mean, you do! And so does Sasha," he pointed out, smiling at the other girl and making her blush as well. Connie's muscles tensed. "And I mean, Historia always looks like a princess. However, you look extra royal tonight, my lady."

"Thank you," Historia said with a small curtsy to the boy's charming wit. "You look spectacular yourself. You all do." The queen beamed at her friends. "So why don't we all go show them… uh, how'd you put it Marco?"

"How the queen's court gets funky with it!" the freckled boy repeated with enthusiasm.

"Right!" Historia said with a nod. "Let's show them how the queen's court gets funky with it!"

"Dear god, the queen's said it. It's a thing now," Jean moaned overdramatically. Historia giggled, grabbing Jean's hand and pulling him along with her towards the dance floor. "Hey!"

"Hey what? I'm choosing you as the first person to officially dance with the queen," the blonde said with a devious glint in her eyes. She looped her arm through the boy's, giving the appearance that it had been his choice to escort her to the floor. "You want to pass that title on to someone else? Eren maybe?"

Jean's lips betrayed him as he glared down at the girl, curving up into a genuine smile. "You're too good at this game," he said in reply, carefully wrapping one hand around her waist and repositioning the hand Historia was already holding into the proper position. "I will gladly be your first dance, your highness."

"I'm honored," Historia sighed, dramatically looking up at the ceiling before returning her gaze to Jean's hazel eyes. The music flowed into an elegant waltz. The sea of people around them, coupled off into pairs, began to move in time to the music. They began to turn in a large circle that encompassed the entire dance floor, as if the floor were slowly rotating beneath them. Jean and Historia fell into step with them, the boy leading with a careful precision, ensuring that he wouldn't also be the first to step on the queen's toes.

The duo melted right into the crowd, twisting and twirling along next to nobles and peasantry alike. That was perhaps the true magic of a royal ball: everyone looked so lovely, social class became irrelevant. The beauty of the event, the magic of the very idea of a ball, overtook the mind and senses and leveled all playing fields. All one knew was the joy of dancing and the bliss of dressing up. Historia had to admit that of all the dresses she'd worn so far, this gown was by far her favorite. The sleeveless, sweetheart neckline, the bodice that snugly hugged her upper body, the skirts that flared around her legs, the brilliant scarlet color; everything about it was perfect.

As the dancing continued, Historia kept her eyes focused on Jean, from the perfect fit of his silver vest and black jacket to his hazel eyes, sparkling under the chandelier light and clouded with concentration. Although the crowd around them hadn't paused in their dancing to stare when she'd approached, the girl could feel their eyes watching her. With each turn, a new face got a glimpse of the queen. Of course they had no malicious intentions; they were simply curious people doing what curious people did: stare. But their curious scrutiny brought with it more pressure than they knew. It was daunting. Reflexively, the girl's hands tightened around Jean's hand and shoulder.

"Hey," Jean whispered. Historia blinked, her eyes focusing up at his shining smile. "Stop worrying. Have fun."

The girl smiled. "I'm trying," she replied quietly.

"Try harder, Highness," Jean said with a smile before twirling her under his arm, her bright red skirts flaring around her like a flash of flames. Historia laughed as she clung to Jean again, the sound clearly genuine enough to earn her a glittering smile from the taller boy. The moment was broken as the waltz drew to a close. The couple released one another to applaud along with the rest of the partygoers, cheering on the orchestra. The two were further distracted by a tap on Jean's shoulder.

"Would it be alright if I asked to share the next dance with our royal highness?" Marco asked, proffering his hand to the queen as he fell into a respectful bow.

"She's all yours," Jean answered, handing Historia off to the freckled brunette. "I've got to go find Mikasa anyway. Thank you for honoring me with your first dance, my lady," he bowed, graceful as a cat. He winked a gleaming hazel eye at the blonde girl before disappearing into the crowd.

"Go get her, Prince Charming," Historia called encouragingly. The orchestra began to play an up tempo quadrille. The girl gripped Marco's shoulder tightly, her back straightening when she felt his hand gently grace her hip. The music began to pick up, capturing the dancers in its alluring rhythm once again. "How are you?" Historia asked as the crowd began to blur around them.

"I'm fantastic! How are you?" Marco beamed.

"Wonderful!" Historia replied with a laugh. "And look, we match!" The brunette glanced down at his crimson vest, then back at Historia's gown.

"Would you look at that," Marco commented simply, spinning the girl under his arm. "Want to say we planned it?"

"If anyone asks, I'll send them your way," Historia answered lightheartedly. "And then you can show them how funky the knights' guild can be."

Marco laughed, his shoulders shaking. "I'm never living that down, am I?" he asked, twirling her around again. The duo then pushed an arms length away from one another before swinging back together, ending with yet another spin, arms somehow escaping getting locked together. Historia laughed from pure delight. "But truly, your highness, you look spectacular tonight. Practically glowing. Like you were made to be queen."

"Marco," Historia sighed with a small laugh. "You're making me blush."

"But it's true," the brunette insisted, spinning the blonde out then pulling her back so gently the girl gasped from the power of such a light movement. "And I think you need to hear that more than just being told you look pretty." His face was mere inches away from hers. She could see strains of a lighter, golden brown snaking through his dark irises. A warmth spread through the blonde's chest at the genuine kindness emanating from the boy holding her close, smiling like the sun itself.

"You're too kind," Historia whispered, biting lightly at her lip. "Really, Marco."

The boy only smiled in response, spinning her around again. Historia began to wonder how Marco smiled so much. Her cheeks were still aching from the meetings two days ago. She'd have to ask him about that some other time. The music of the orchestra slowed to a stop, pausing for another round of applause. As their steps slowed, Marco and Historia were met with another visitor.

"Excuse me for intruding, but may I have a dance with the queen?" Armin asked with a charming smile. Marco stepped away from Historia, bowing ceremoniously.

"Thank you for the dance, your highness," the freckled boy said in parting, taking a hold of the queen's hand and kissing it ever so lightly.

"Thank you," Historia replied. Marco disappeared into the crowd, trademark smile lighting up his face. Armin took up Marco's place as a gavotte began to play. Historia's heart gave a beat at the much welcomed height difference.

"Having fun?" the blonde boy asked, leading Historia with a practiced grace, as if he were calculating every move. The girl found it endearing, exactly what was to be expected from the boy.

"Yes, I am," she answered honestly. "And you?"

"I'm getting there," Armin nodded. "I'm trying to be too many people's wingman. It's kind of exhausting."

Historia laughed. "But you still have the energy for one dance with me?"

"Always," Armin beamed brightly as they pulled an arm's length away from one another, coming together on the left, then apart again, then the right, before returning to their natural dance position. The crowd was moving in a large circle again, orbiting the dance floor with an array of colors.

"So who are you helping score a date to a dance that's already started?" Historia asked conversationally, the rhythm of the dance slow enough to allow for more in depth discussion. She still kept her voice at about a whisper to avoid eavesdroppers.

"Well, Connie," Armin began with a sigh. "And Jean. Mikasa. Sort of Eren. It's all very complicated and there are a lot of entangling interests, but I'm doing my best."

Historia giggled. "I'm sure you are," she commented, sliding smoothly under the boy's arm as he spun her in a slow circle. "How do you know Eren?"

Armin's eyes widened. "Oh my, I forgot, you just met all of us!" The boy gave a small chuckle. "Eren is my best friend. Him, Mikasa, and I have known each other since we were little, growing up on the same street. But Eren couldn't join the knights' guild with Mikasa and I because of hereditary high injury risk. So he got a job working at the Dragon's Den, and we go and visit him whenever we can."

"Aw, that's so sweet," the girl said in response. "But that's sad that Eren couldn't join the knights' guild."

"Yeah," Armin sighed, his blue eyes growing sad for a moment. "He was really upset afterwards. He was the one that suggested we apply in the first place. But he just couldn't join, not with his ma- health risk." The boy spun Historia out and pulled her back in. When she looked back at him, a charming smile had replaced the pensive expression of a second ago. "It's all okay now, though. Besides, we don't have to talk about such boring things when we're at a ball. A ball celebrating you!"

"Armin," Historia giggled at his sudden excitement. The boy merely spun her around again, ignoring her protests at his enthusiasm. After the song ended, the night began to move in a whirlwind for Historia. Eren had found her after Armin, formally introducing himself and leading her gracefully through another waltz. Sasha had interrupted them afterwards, claiming Historia as her partner for the following Mazurka. Mina stepped up after Sasha. Historia felt as though her heart could explode with happiness as she took turns spinning around with her childhood friend to the soft, sweet melody of a quadrille. After Mina, Sir Smith approached, stepping her through a methodical schottische. Awkward as it was at first, Historia felt somewhat at ease dancing with the master of the knights' guild; as intimidating as he looked, the blonde man had been smiling pleasantly at her the whole time, very relaxed and casual as if they were practicing instead of performing in front of the crowd.

Sir Edros succeeded Sir Smith in the waltz that followed. The Prime Minister did not try to speak with the queen, simply sharing a delighted smile with her, communicating to her his pride and pleasure with the reception of the event. They danced together easily, not as comfortable as the girl had felt with the master knight, but still safe and easy. The numerous nobles that approached her during the length of the next three dances were not nearly as enjoyable. Many of them had been too rigid to move properly, some too forceful for her to keep up, others too calculated to call their movement dancing. There had been little to none of the small talk she'd shared with her friends, and naturally a few steps to her toes.

After three dances with the squabbling nobles, Historia excused herself for a break, needing a moment to catch her breath. The girl had only been out for one dance, enough time to catch a quick drink of water after talking to a group of ladies from the village, before the nobles began to press in again. Historia could see them approaching slowly from all sides and began to steel herself for another round of mechanical waltzes and squashed toes.

"Excuse me, your highness, but I believe we've met before."

The blonde girl turned around to address the voice behind her. She hadn't recognized the speaker right away. A smile of relief spread on her lips at the familiar face.

"Yes, I do believe we have. You're Reiner, right?" she asked, looking up at the tall, muscular blonde.

"Hey, I'm surprised you remember," the boy grinned, offering her a polite bow. "It's nice to see you again," he said, reaching for her hand and kissing it softly, "my lady."

Historia curtsied in response, heat rising in her cheeks. "The pleasure is all mine. Would you like to dance?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," Reiner replied. He held his arm out and Historia happily looped her arm around his, successfully avoiding the pressing nobles. The orchestra was starting on a smooth gavotte. The height difference between her and Reiner was a bit more dramatic than it had been with her previous partners, but Historia couldn't have cared less. Compared to the stiff backed, straight-legged nobles who'd been twirling her mechanically around the floor, Reiner was a dream. His hand felt warm in hers and safely soft against the small of her back. He felt real, human, as if he were enjoying the dance for the sake of dancing instead of a formality or an opportunity to be seen dancing with the queen.

"You're a very good dancer, your highness," Reiner complimented as the two got lost in the sea of dancers.

"Thank you," Historia nodded graciously. "You're rather talented yourself."

Reiner shrugged. "I've been practicing all this week in the event that I would catch you unattended at any moment." Historia's cheeks flared like fire, eliciting a chuckle from her companion. "I'm merely kidding, your highness. I just happened to see your face while dancing with all those old men, and when I saw more of them staring at you like predators, I figured you'd need a knight in shining armor to whisk you away."

Historia laughed. "Well thank you for that, brave knight," she joked lightly. Reiner smiled down at her, warm and genial, as they continued to spin with the crowd. It was comfortable, dancing with Reiner. He led her with an assured grace, as if he were still protecting her from something, perhaps more stepped on toes. Either way, he was the most enjoyable partner the girl had had for at least two hours.

"May I cut in?"

Historia blinked as Reiner spun her around once more to face a familiar brunette, freckled dusting her cheeks, in a gleaming gold dress and sporting an amused grin on her lips. Even with her stunning gown and hair done up in curls held together with golden pins, a drastic difference from the apron and ponytail she'd known prior, Historia knew her immediately. The only thing she couldn't remember was the name…

"Of course," the blonde boy said, bowing to Historia as he let go of her hand. "Your highness, it was a pleasure to…"

"Thank you!" the girl chirped, casually cutting in front of him and taking the hand he'd let go. Historia's eyes widened as the girl's other hand rested softly against her waist as she was spun away from Reiner, who was staring after them with a look of incredulous amazement. The taller girl chuckled to herself. Historia felt a laugh bubble up in her throat as well as she brought her hand to rest tentatively on the girl's bare shoulder.

"I thought you could use a bit of a break from all the pomp and circumstance," the brunette said, her dark eyes shining with an intensity Historia had never seen before. It was something about the way the light of the chandelier reflected off of those golden hazel irises, illuminating them as though there were flames dancing behind her eyes. There was something off setting about them; dangerous, but not enough to stay away.

"We've met before," Historia said tentatively as the two fell into step with the other dancers. "At the Dragon's Den, right?"

"Um-hm," the girl nodded, looking off thoughtfully. "I do believe we've run into each other there before."

"Then please don't be mad at me for asking, but what was your name again?" Historia asked, biting nervously at her lip.

"You mean you don't remember?" the brunette gasped, her golden eyes widening with shock. Historia shook her head guiltily.

"No! I just…"

The girl laughed, a short, musical sound that caught the queen by surprise. "I'm joking. We only met once, I could never expect you to remember a waitress' name after one time. That's asking way too much of a girl who has to run a kingdom. The name's Ymir."

"Oh yeah, Ymir!" Historia repeated, nodding her head with excited recognition. "I remember now! That's such a pretty name."

"No it isn't," Ymir replied flippantly.

"Yes it is," Historia argued earnestly.

"You really think my name's pretty?" Ymir asked, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side. The coy lilt in her voice sent a blush rising to Historia's cheeks.

"W-well… yes," the blonde answered, casting her eyes downward. She heard Ymir laugh again. It wasn't a mean laugh, just an amused little expression of pleasure. It was strangely enchanting.

"I'm honored."

The blonde's blue eyes snapped back up to the intense gaze of Ymir's golden orbs, watching her with a warm sense of amusement.

"Hm?"

"I'm honored that the queen finds my name to be pretty," Ymir replied. The smile on her lips was smooth as silk, and cool as ice. It was off-putting in the most satisfying way. Historia couldn't explain the feeling. She didn't feel much like trying either.

"I'm surprised you haven't been told so before," the queen replied.

Ymir shrugged. "Doesn't bother me. I prefer to walk along the edges, unnoticed. Makes it easier to observe things and time your jokes perfectly."

"You tell jokes?" Historia asked hopefully.

"Not in the literal sense, highness," Ymir answered. "You'd hate me as a court jester."

"Oh I wasn't…"

Ymir's laugh cut her off. "You are too adorable. Highness, I'm messing with you!" the brunette exclaimed. "That's my kid of jokes: sarcasm and biting wit."

The blonde blinked. Her face suddenly became very serious, yet her body continued to move mechanically in time with the music. "Are you saying that you've been teasing your queen? That's grounds for immediate execution." Ymir's dark eyebrows knit together as he lips formed a tight frown. Neither girl pulled her hands away nor stopped gently spinning with the other.

"Really?"

A large grin spread across the blonde's face. "Nope! I'm just messing with you!" Her eyes sparkled like pools of iridescent water under the chandelier light.

Ymir blushed for only a second before her face melted back into its mask of amused boredom. "Clever girl. You learn fast." Historia smiled proudly. "Wow. Beautiful, brave, elegant, and smart. What aren't you, Queen Historia?"

It was the blonde's turn to blush yet again. "I'm not brave," she replied honestly, a resigned smile pulling at her lips.

"Of course you are. You stood up to those no-good sorcerers that crashed your coronation," Ymir said in response. "That must've taken a lot of courage. Not to mention the fact that you became queen at sixteen. That's gutsy, highness. You're one of few who would accept such a responsibility. You're braver than you think."

The blonde looked away shyly. She felt the fire of a blush heating her face.

"Hey," Ymir said softly, lifting Historia's chin so that their eyes met again. "I mean it. Don't sell yourself short, kid."

"You're too kind," the blonde replied. Her heart was swelling in her chest at the kindness so genuine in the other girls voice and the gleam in her eyes that was strangely close to admiration. "Really."

Ymir smiled, graceful and hard to read as a cat. "So, what's it like dancing with the Prime Minister? He looks like such an uptight man, I'm sure it was like waltzing with a broomstick with arms." Historia giggled, a little harder than she'd intended. Her head had begun to swim a bit, her vision blurring slightly around the edges. She kept her eyes focused on Ymir, finding that almost more dizzying than the dancing.

"Sir Edros really was not all that bad of a dancer," the blonde girl replied. "Actually, of all the nobles who've honored me with a dance this evening, he was probably the best."

"Ah yes, the nobles," Ymir said, a laugh in her voice. "I'd forgotten about the army of stuffy, stiff legged old men. You are brave, aren't you?"

Historia giggled as the gavotte drew to a close with a flourish from the orchestra. The crowd began to clap. Historia drew her hands away from Ymir and applauded with them, the brunette following suit with a look of sheer boredom on her face as she glanced around the room. Historia tried to follow her gaze, but paused when she felt a hand on her arm. She looked up to see Ymir smiling down on her with that same dangerous gleam in her eyes.

Historia felt her knees turn to jelly, thankful Ymir began to pull her towards the balcony doors before she could collapse.

"Come with me," was all the brunette said, her voice dissolving into the noise of the crowd. Historia could do nothing but follow, carried along by a wave of reckless abandon and another tingling feeling in her chest she couldn't quite identify. Whatever it was, though, felt exhilarating and was enough to convince the girl to let whatever was about to happen, happen.

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"Connie?"

"Y-yeah?" the boy asked, looking up from his shoes to Sasha's eyes, which were sparkling with amusement under the golden lights from the chandelier.

"You can hold my hand, you know," the girl said with a soft giggle that had Connie's cheeks turning scarlet.

"Right," he scoffed, trying to play it cool as he gently pulled one of her hands off his shoulder to clasp it firmly between his own shaking fingers. "I just didn't want to make you hold my hand right away. To be proper and all."

"Um-hm," Sasha muttered, nodding like she didn't believe a word he said. But she didn't care much what his excuse was, cause Connie was nervous and was ten times cuter for being so. She didn't say anything else either as the two of them fell back into step, their slightly awkward movements becoming smooth and fluid as they relaxed. Sasha couldn't say why she felt so tense all of the sudden, except maybe because the lights were bringing out the luminescent green and gold undertones in Connie's eyes. For his part, Connie couldn't explain how he felt either, except that he'd never seen Sasha in something as beautiful as the violet gown she wore now. (He's never seen her in anything so close fitted either, showing off more of her than he'd ever seen, but that certainly would never admit that was the reason his heart fluttered every time she looked at him.)

Regardless of the reason neither one wanted to admit, dancing together was a one of a kind experience. It was like everyone else in the room had disappeared, leaving the two alone in a glittering world of golden light. There was just something about the way Connie held Sasha's waist as if she were about to leave him, and the look Sasha gave Connie every time he spun her around, and the fact that her hand fit perfectly in his. Connie figured this must be what magic felt like.

Jean broke the spell like the harsh chime of a clock.

"Where's Historia?" the boy asked, his eyes scanning the room. Connie and Sasha split apart quickly, guiltily, as one usually does after such a dance.

"I don't know. Can't you see her?" Connie asked in reply, following Jean's move and looking around. "Her dress shouldn't be hard to find."

"I don't see her. Come on," Jean urged, walking off through the sea of dancers. Connie looked at Sasha, wistfully holding each other's gaze for only a moment before they set off on Jean's heels. They ran into Marco, who was talking with Armin, only a few feet away.

"Marco, have you seen Historia?" Jean asked as the trio pulled up in front of him. Marco cast an anxious look around the room.

"No," the freckled boy shook his head, worry coloring his face. "Where do you think she went?"

"I don't know. But we have to find her," Sasha replied. "Or at least figure out where she is."

"Come on," Marco said, heading off towards the platform. "Let's get a little height advantage." The group set off after Marco, careening around twirling partygoers. It was like a living labyrinth.

They were nearly at the stage when Jean realized there were only four of them. "Wait, Armin's not…" he began, turning back to call for the blonde. "Armin?"

Through the sea of people, Jean could see that Armin stood where they'd left him, still as a statue, blue eyes wide and face pale like he'd seen a ghost.

"Armin!" Jean exclaimed. He ran back just in time for the blonde's eyes to snap shut, every muscles freezing up. "Oh no," Jean breathed as he felt the others surround him. He gently shook Armin by the shoulders. "Armin? Can you hear me?" The other three had noticed Jean move back and were now at his side.

"What's wrong?" Marco asked in alarm, moving forward and placing a hand on Armin's shoulder.

"He's a…" Connie began. He paused, scanning the room for any potential eavesdroppers. "… he's a seer," the boy whispered. Marco's lips parted in surprise.

"So this is a…?"

"Yes," Jean answered, cutting him off. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Get him out of here first," Sasha replied, glancing around the room again. Armin's lips were moving with silent words, his body trembling more violently every second. "Before we draw any more attention."

"And if I remember correctly, Mikasa said it doesn't take long for him to start screaming," Jean added as Marco moved forward and wrap an arm beneath Armin's shoulders, effectively carrying the boy in an unassuming manner.

"Where should we take him?" he asked, directing the question to Sasha. The girl looked to Jean. The sandy haired boy bit his lip before leading the group towards a back hallway that was luckily vacant when they arrived. Connie shut the door tightly behind them as Marco laid Armin against the wall. The blonde remained standing, leaning against the wall, his knees locked. He was trembling so hard, Marco clamped his arms together in a useless attempt to make it stop.

"Now what?" Connie asked, wringing his hands nervously. "Should I go find Eren or Mikasa?"

"No, we can handle this," Jean replied with more force than necessary, the pressure of the situation frustrating him. "What did Hanji do the day at the Dragon's Den?"

"Help me loosen his hands," Sasha gasped suddenly, reaching for one of Armin's arms and setting about prying his fingers out of fists. Jean reached for Armin's other arm, and had his bare palm open in a matter of seconds. He offered it to Sasha, who took the hand willingly and began to run her thumbs in slow circles over the soft flesh of his palms.

Slowly, Armin stopped shaking. He stopped mumbling. His muscles relaxed and he slid down the wall into a sitting position, his head resting against the stone. Sasha knelt down with him, still holding his hands. His eyes opened, revealing two orbs of solid white before he blinked and they became sky blue once again. The blonde boy gasped after his eyes came back, instantly pulling his hands from Sasha and hiding his face with them.

"Armin?" Jean asked, kneeling down next to the blonde and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Armin, are you alright?"

"Y-yeah," the blonde stuttered, not moving his hands away from his face. Jean frowned before turning to Marco and Connie.

"Could you go grab him some water?" the fair-haired boy asked. Connie nodded, holding the door open for Marco to follow him. The freckled brunette looked rather shaken up as he walked out as if in a daze. Jean watched him worriedly, deciding he could deal with a shell-shocked Marco after they got Armin back on his feet.

As if cued by his thoughts, a choked sob sounded from the blonde crumpled on the floor. Jean turned his attention back in time to see Sasha lean forward and whisper something to the blonde, only for Armin to spring forward and wrap his arms around her neck. The girl wound her arms around the shorter boy as his body convulsed with gasping cries, holding him close.

"Armin, what did you see?" she asked gently. But Jean could see the panic on her face.

"N-nothing," the boy shook his head. "Just that… that Historia's going to meet someone tonight. Someone charming. A potential suitor." Armin took a deep breath. "I just… it just hurts." He nuzzled closer to Sasha, hiding his face in her shoulder. The girl turned worried brown eyes on Jean. Get Mikasa, she mouthed silently. Jean nodded, and without a word, he disappeared into the crowd.

Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you liked this chapter, cause I had a ton of fun writing it. Sorry for some of the bad descriptions of dancing or dresses or something, sometimes it looks good in my head but I can't get the words right.

Feel free to leave your comments below! Make my day, I dare you.

Have a great day!