A/N: Music I had in mind while writing this chapter:
Spanish Waltz (I'm getting the composer confused so check it out on YouTube. Possibly – maybe even likely – Franz Schubert. You'll see plenty of videos with people dancing the exact same formation as in this chapter to that exact song. There's also a variation but it looked a wee bit too complicated for Bella to figure out quite that fast.
Waltz op. 33, No. 10; Franz Schubert
The world grew still and silent a moment, while for the first time Arabella experienced nervousness at the mere thought of dancing. Her eyes flitted down to Erik's extended hand, then towards the groups of four carefully taking their places. She knew just by their starting positions that Erik had never taught her the dance they were preparing for.
"I don't think I can." She whispered.
"It's all right." Erik promised, not budging so much as an inch as he patiently awaited her decision. "I recognize this one. My mother taught it to me even without a group. The steps are very easy, and I will talk you through each one. It will be good practice for moving around the square in that dress."
Arabella glanced down at the beautiful but ridiculously sized skirt she wore. She knotted her fingers together on her lap anxiously as she once more considered how much of a fool she might make of herself… and then lifted her gaze to Erik's.
His golden eyes were welcoming, but serious. They held the promise that he was not going to let her stumble in front of all those people. He would never let her embarrass herself. He would also never press her into doing something she was not ready for… not on that sort of a scale, at least. The one dance that had led to their fiery duet days before had been entirely out of fun – not actual coercion. Had she refused, he would have let her and diffused the crowds' enthusiasm.
Taking a deep bracing breath, she placed her hand in Erik's and allowed him to guide her to her feet and across the ground to where the other dancers were finally all in place. He murmured quietly to her as he found them a position across from another couple, telling her quickly the briefest explanation of the steps that he possibly could; just so that she would be slightly prepared. Very little of it made any sense to her, but Erik simply kept assuring her that the dance was extremely repetitive and would give her plenty of chances to get it right.
"Even people who have learned these dances are capable of making mistakes." He soothed. "You won't be the only one who slips up – if, indeed, you do slip up."
Setting her mouth in a grim line of determination, Arabella nodded once at all his encouragements before the music began. There was no way Erik could have witnessed a festival or ball before, which made her certain he was repeating one of his mother' undoubtedly rare gentle mantras. But she also couldn't imagine anything as simple as a dance intimidating Erik… Where had he learned such soothing reassurances, if his mother had been so terrible?
The dance was indeed very easy – once you got used to it. Certainly she didn't catch on instantaneously, but Erik seemed to have a knack for correcting her before any catastrophes could occur. Considering they were constantly in an ever-changing group of four, there was always one other gentleman partnering her for brief moments that was happy to correct her when a misstep took place. But, as Erik had predicted, she was a very fast learner, particularly at such a simple dance, and she soon found herself smiling broadly not only at Erik, but whatever male counterpart was a part of her group.
Erik did not seem to be having quite as much luck, although his dancing was absolutely impeccable. The dancing took place in an area lit much better than the rest of the square, and both his mask and lack of gloves drew more than one disgusted grimace from his alternate partners. Each time a woman started to pull away from the sight of his long-fingered hand and his strange featureless face, she wanted to reach out and slap someone… but Erik took it all with amazing grace, setting his jaw just as firmly as she had; simply to get through the dance without stalking off out of humiliation.
She knew he was doing it for her sake… and she wished she could convey just how much it meant to her.
By the end of the dance, she was ready to give up her entire night of freedom just so that he could return to his world of peace and quiet and relative anonymity (when he wasn't deliberately on stage). It seemed that no one was connecting his beige mask to the other more elaborate ones he wore during his performances. No one was connecting her to the fiery dancer from the nearby visiting gypsies. Apparently, if you could dress the part, then it was easy to pretend you belonged with nearly anyone.
"Do you want to go back?" she asked him in concern, as he began to guide her away from the dancers.
"Why would I?" he asked, shifting a touch uncomfortably and making a very good show at not being offended by the treatment of others. "I promised you a night of feeling like a Queen. I don't think I've quite accomplished that yet."
"But… you're uncomfortable in this crowd." She protested, her objection only half-hearted as her eyes were yet again drawn to the small group of musicians preparing for yet another dance. "We don't have to stay, Erik. I've had my fun."
"Well, maybe I haven't had mine." Erik pointed out, apparently having decided to shake his discomfort. "We'll stay just a little longer. I'm determined to see you feeling like a queen."
"How are you supposed to know when I'm feeling like a queen?" Arabella sighed with a quiet smile.
"I have witnessed my fair share of women thinking they are the center of the universe." He stated. "You would be amazed just how much I can perceive of the human race just by watching them from my stage."
He impulsively lifted her hand in his, and bent so close that she truly believed he was actually going to kiss her hand. At the last instant, however, he halted, his entire body freezing as his eyes shot up to hers as though he'd about to do something terribly wrong. Although the impulsive near-kiss startled her, she found she couldn't manage enough instinctive fear to pull back. It was only her hand, after all… and it was Erik…
But after a moment that seemed endless and was probably less than six seconds, Erik lifted his other hand to cover the one he held, and straightened quickly… pulling her hand up until it was close to his heart.
"Let me show you what it's like to make the rest of the universe revolve around you."
Sighing, Arabella gave him another slight smile as she nodded shakily. She would have encouraged him that kissing her hand wasn't the end of the world – that she would gladly accept it. But… she didn't know just how much she would open that door to greater physicality if she did that. She didn't know how far Erik might take the invitation… and she didn't want to disappoint him if he accidentally tried to take any further liberty than kissing her hand. Instead, she swallowed her disappointment and they began walking slowly around the square once again; Erik silently buying her a glass of punch that she all-too-quickly realized was lace with alcohol… but it was hardly the strongest spirit she'd ever been exposed to.
Several minutes went by where there was no music, the audience apparently having decided to take a small break. Couples milled around; many of them refusing to drift far from the designated ballroom area. Erik and Arabella peered around them, constantly curious but growing more and more at ease as people seemed to forget about their strange existence.
"Wait here a moment." He whispered just as it appeared the musicians were preparing for another set.
Before she could ask what he was up to, Erik had strolled over to the small gazebo where the musicians were sheltered, and spoke quietly to the man that appeared to be in charge. She could have sworn she saw money change hands, and narrowed her eyes suspiciously as he returned to her side, again holding out a gentlemanly hand.
"Shall we?" he enquired with a smile.
She did not hesitate again, but her responding smile was nervous as he led her back towards the dance area. He brought her so close to the center of the 'floor' that she felt exposed and embarrassed – and especially nervous. They were within inches of the fountain that centered the square, and she could hardly imagine dancing without falling in. But she reminded herself just to keep eye contact with Erik. She didn't have to acknowledge anyone else even existed if she didn't want to. It was a mantra she'd begun during their last dance together, whenever she found herself close to stumbling; and he was far too graceful and quick to ever let her trip into a fountain!
When they reached their position, Erik released her and turned to face her, holding his left hand up and out to his side, offering it to her in a way she recognized from their lessons. Immediately, she stepped up to clasp her hand over his, her four fingers together as they folded around his hand, while his fingers did the same. She stepped up slightly to his side, and placed her left hand on his shoulder while his arm swept around her waist and his right hand pressed gently to her back, right where her last ribs were.
"Remember what I told you?" he asked, as the introduction to the music began.
"I think so." She said a little shakily. Erik had taught her this hold, but he'd rarely pulled her quite so close. Usually he gave her more space; but clearly the crowded dance area wouldn't allow for a great deal of it. They were going to have to be careful, and she was going to have to endure a touch that was far less unconscious than when he comforted her with a single arm about her shoulders. They hadn't touched very much at all since her parents had been banished, except for what was strictly necessary. How they kept pulling away from each other made moments like this all the more tense, even though she was learning to not be afraid of his touch.
She smiled when Erik's eyes closed briefly in an expression of discouragement.
"What is it?" she demanded, knowing it had nothing to do with her. She could tell whenever she had done something wrong. He never showed that kind of dismay. Her mistakes were greeted with something far less dramatic.
"The musicians have taken artistic license." He sighed. "Apparently, Schubert has been made a Spaniard."
"Oh…" was all she could think to say, having no idea who he was speaking of. She supposed it must be the composer of the music.
All thought left her as Erik took his first guiding step towards her, causing her to jolt back a little too fast – and with the wrong foot.
"Easy." He breathed, leaning his head toward her. "Don't think about it, ma belle… just enjoy yourself. Just let it be. I don't care how many mistakes you make. Enjoy yourself."
"I-I wasn't thinking." She admitted with a blush and an airy chuckle.
"Ah." His eyes glimmered. "All right then. Think – but not about the dance. Think about the gypsy princess you are… and put everyone here to shame!"
Arabella rolled her eyes at his overblown romanticism. He was good at such sentimentalities when he put his mind to it, using them as a very good distraction from whatever troubled her at any given time. He didn't mean half of what he said; she was certain of it… but she couldn't help feeling a glow infuse her any time he used his pretty words.
He counted silently a moment, and then they began again.
This time, she did not slip up. This time, she glided effortlessly with Erik, her amber eyes meeting his golden ones and becoming utterly lost. The world around them swirled with light and color and sound, but it all blurred together. It was distant, and ceased to have any importance. It was almost as though Erik himself were creating the music, because it swelled easily around her and lifted her faultlessly from one step to the next.
Erik whirled her around the dance area, making her almost feel as if they were flying. His arm kept her firmly and safely in place before him while his hand guided their every pivot and turn. He was grinning broadly, beginning to outright laugh long before the dance was complete as she let her head fall back and her eyes close. She didn't need to see where they were going anymore. Even if Erik didn't guide her, she felt as though she could have navigated around every other dancer without so much as brushing her skirt up against another ladies'.
"Ah, Your Highness!" Erik laughed over the music. "Bravo! That is what I was hoping to see tonight!"
She wasn't sure when the waltz ended, but suddenly the hold had changed. Erik had spun her into a half circle, each one of their arms stretching behind their backs. All four of their hands were joined as they spun around each other side by side, hand in hand, eyes again meeting. Their feet almost literally did fly this time, as the new dance she didn't even know required tiny steps to safely circle around a singular point together. Their bodies were pulled a little apart by the pull of their spinning, and both were laughing gaily and hardly able to breathe by the time Arabella realized she was having more fun than she'd ever experienced.
She didn't even know if they were properly dancing anymore, and it didn't matter. Erik continued to spin her, laughing even as she half-heartedly began to scold him in objection. She knew she was getting terribly dizzy, and didn't care. She felt exactly what he wanted her to. The Spanish square had become the center of the universe, and she and Erik were sister stars endlessly circling. The rest of the universe was nothing but color and light… even sound draining away.
She didn't care right up until the moment the world grew gray, spinning even as her legs tangled and she spilled toward the ground in a dead faint. For only a moment she felt her arms jerk as Erik tried to keep her upright. She distantly heard him cry out her name… but even as the world faded to darkness she had a faint smile of joy on her face.
A/N: For those of you who might recognize any hint of it, yeah, I've got a tiny homage to the movie "Scarlett" in here.
That's it. That's all the glorious fluff you're getting. Buckle your seat belts ladies and gentlemen… and wear your strongest sunblock… because Hell is hot and deep!