Kylan eyed the crowd of people surrounding him suspiciously. He was out of his element- far out of it, and he didn't like it.
The people surrounding him were cheerful, festive, and generally lacking shoes. The ladies seemed to favour long, swirling skirts, and the men dressed very casually. His Master had sent him to learn how to dance, and all he could do was stand in the corner like a shell-shocked soldier.
"You move like a boma," she had said. "A cranky, irritated boma. You may be able to brute force your way through students your own age, but what happens when you run up against someone who can out-brute you? That's when the finesse comes in." She demonstrated what seemed to him to be a rather silly combination of footwork and saber movements. "If you can't move well, they're going to get you."
And so he'd been sent to what she thought would be a fun activity- Corellian contra dancing. He supposed it was less insulting to his manhood than, say, ballet, but not by much. He almost wished that his six-foot stature didn't make him stand out so much in the crowd, but he knew that his stiffly formal posture and Jedi robes would probably make him stick out rather badly anyway.
Maybe nobody will want to dance with me, he silently hoped. Maybe, I'll just be able to observe, and go home.
Maybe, if he were lucky. Which, of course, he was most certainly not.
"Hey, don't I know you?"
Kylan looked down to see a diminutive girl about his own age standing next to him. She looked like everyone else, from the colourful swirling skirt to the bare feet, but he recognized her. The fruit farm girl, that was it. Theirs was a small community surrounding the Enclave, and she lived down the road from him. The family was a bit strange, as he recalled. Largest supplier of organic fruit in the area, not to mention her father was known for leading protests in his day. Being that she was the only child, he'd never really bothered hanging around her much.
Now, however, it would seem she was his only acquaintence.
"Hi," he managed. "I'm in some of your classes. The name's Kylan." He stuck out his hand, and she shook it enthusiastically.
"Right, right. I'm Leiraya."
"So…" he trailed off, searching for something to say. "Did your Master make you come here, too?"
"Master Gormain? No, not at all. I do this for fun."
Fun. He knew people danced for fun, but the concept quite escaped him. "Oh. Master Louis, my lightsaber instructor, made me come here."
"Oh, you're one of them," she grinned, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"Them?"
"Them," she nodded solemnly. "Those few who cannot move their feet without it looking like they've got blocks of duracrete affixed to their soles. They are a tragic lot, but we do what we can."
"Tragic?" He sputtered. "I'm not tragic-"
"Come on," she grabbed his hand and pulled him to the main dance floor. "They're starting, and I'll be your partner. I promise I'll be nice. And oh," she paused, and looked down at his feet, "you'll need to lose the boots." Seeing his look of protest, she looked pointedly at him. "You'll step on somebody's toes, and then you'll have a cranky dancer on your hands. Don't worry, nobody will think your feet smell."
Kylan's jaw just hung open for a few seconds. He'd never really talked to her, and he was beginning to wonder if now was a good time to start. She had never given him any reason to think of her as a straightforward person, but clearly, he was mistaken. Eventually, he managed to find his voice. "Do you always talk this much the first time you meet someone?"
Leiraya shrugged, completely nonplussed. "Maybe. You gonna take those boots off?"
"Oh, fine." He hastily yanked them off, tossed them to the side, and followed her to the dance floor.
A man up front holding a flimsy looked over the small crowd. "Everybody ready to go? Okay? Okay. We're going to try a more challenging dance today, is that all right?"
Kylan looked skeptically at Leiraya. "Maybe I should just watch…"
"No, you shouldn't. You'll be fine, we go through it slowly first."
"Good!" The caller smiled cheerfully. "All right, the dance goes as follows: form two long lines, you're going to go forward, then back."
"We're what?" Kylan whispered.
"Here." Leiraya grabbed his hand, as did the woman on his other side. "Take three steps forward, good, then three steps back."
"Got that?" There was a general sound of assent from the dancers. "Okay, now balance and swing your neighbour."
Kylan blinked for a couple of seconds, but was quickly whisked to one side by his neighbour, who spun him around rather awkwardly before he managed to spit out the fact that he was new. Seeing his distress, the young woman patiently showed him how to properly swing one's partner, which always works better when the male knows what he is doing. After a couple of tries, he mostly had the hang of it.
"All right, now circle left all the way around." This part was much easier to grasp, and he breathed a silent sigh of relief that nothing more complicated had come up.
"Now comes the tricky part. Balance right with your partner…"
Leiraya took his right hand. "It's just like regular balancing, but with one hand."
"Oh." He was still unsure how this was going to help his footwork, but he supposed he could make it through one dance. Possibly. With the help of those surrounding him, he managed to trip his way through the rest of the dance without killing anything, though the caller was right- some of the moves were tricky, and even the experienced dancers needed to run through it a few times just so they'd have it right.
It was an interesting concept, he had to admit. It wasn't a stationary thing at all- you had your partner, yes, but through each iteration of the dance you moved closer to one end of the line or the other, until you had to sit out for a turn.
Altogether too soon, the music started. "You ready?" Leiraya asked.
"No," he replied, but he grabbed her hand and started moving. Front, two, three, pause, back, two, three, pause, balance… swing… and around, and around…
They danced and swung, but he was thinking too hard, and Leiraya could tell. "Stop that," she chided him as they circled.
"Stop what?"
"Being stodgy. This is dancing. Have fun with it."
"I'm not stodgy!" He protested.
"Oh yeah?" She looked at him defiantly as they balanced on the right. "Prove it."
"Watch me." He pulled her through, then pulled his neighbour through. Feet, Kylan. Lighten up on your feet. See all the people on their toes? You're flatfooted. You're moving just like Master Louis said- it's time to prove him wrong. A small grin finally appeared on his face. Bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, he continued on with the dance. His form was a little off, and sometimes he forgot which move came next, but Leiraya was right- this wasn't combat training. It was meant to be fun.
And fun he had. The more times he went through the motions, the more confident he became, and the easier it was to just let go and dance. All too soon, however, the music came to an end, and all the dancers bowed to their partners.
"So, was that so terrible?"
"Well…" Kylan considered for a moment. Reluctant though he had been, the dance had been a good deal of fun. "I guess it wasn't awful."
Raising an eyebrow, Leiraya smiled. "It's like pulling teeth, isn't it?"
"What?" He said defensively. "I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, you know what I mean." She grinned and turned towards the exit. "But that's all right, I understand. None of the guys like to admit they enjoyed it."
He gaped at her for a couple of seconds before running to catch up with her, grabbing his boots on the way out. "Now, just wait one second."
"Hmm?" She turned around, a rather smug look on her face.
"I… you're…" he fumbled for words. "You're irritating."
"And you're stubborn." She shrugged. "It all evens out in the end."
"Well…" he trailed off. She was right on that count. He was stubborn. Which, of course, meant that he would never admit she was right.
"So," she smirked, "am I going to see you at the next event?"
Kylan blew out a huge sigh. "Now I think I know why I never talked to you before."
"What, are my winsome ways not to your liking?"
"No- I mean… dangit." He shook his head. "You can stop messing with me any time, you know."
"You can stop talking to me any time, you know." She continued walking, but Kylan remained on her heels, exchanging banter with her as they made their way back towards their respective homes.
Looking on, Master Louis eyed the pair critically. "Now there's a sight I thought I'd never see. Miss Free-Thinking and Mr. Tradition, walking down the lane."
Master Gormain grinned. The contrast was amusing, she had to admit. Kylan Sheffield was among the very few students that consistently insisted on wearing the traditional robes, and the mere sight of him walking down the road, carrying his boots was enough to draw a smile from any of the Masters. Top it off by having him dance with Leiraya Moran, daughter of one of Corellia's most well-known discontented citizens, and she knew that the Council would have something to chuckle about for several days to come.
"Think we should make them sparring partners?"
Louis considered this for a moment. "She'll force him to move- she's got grace, I'll give her that."
"Not to mention the two of them interacting should be amusing."
"If by amusing, you mean it could result in several explosions, then yes, it could be."
"Oh, I'd give them more credit than that." Gormain leaned against the outer wall of the building. "I doubt they agree on anything, but they've got their heads screwed on straight. I imagine they'll be good for each other."
"Well, I'll inform Kylan at our next training session." He straightened and stretched, looking at his wrist chrono. "Speaking of which, I'd better get back to the Enclave. I've got a few students who need some extra practice."
"I think I'll come with you," she said, watching as Kylan and Leiraya disappeared around the corner. "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
And so it was.
