A/N: Hey, long time no fic. Honestly, I'm more-or-less abandoning this site as a writing platform, though I'll be keeping my profile here as a sort of archive. I'm far from leaving fic-writing altogether, however, and will still be found at archiveofourown users / nightfullofstars. Mostly, I'm posting this piece here as an excuse to announce as such, and a huge thank you for all your support over the years! In terms of my multi-chapter works, I do hope to revamp and continue them someday, though again, any continuation will be posted on AO3 rather than here. I hope to see you all there!
If, for any reason, you wanted to find me outside of fic, I'm most active as adoringpast on twitter, though I also have an ideas/writing account there at gardenslumber. Thank you again for all the support, and I hope to see some of you again in the near future!ヾ(＾∇＾)
There's a mural that stretches across the far wall of Lord Eliwood's ballroom, and Larum often finds herself standing before it.
It depicts a gorgeous woman with soft features and a tender smile, arms outstretched and ribbons circling around her. She's a dancer, of that Larum is certain, feet perfectly poised as the mural holds her mid-motion for all eternity. Her figure is hardly like the one Larum herself takes when dancing, and she imagines the music that accompanies their dances are far different as well. Nonetheless, the more she studies the mural, the more Larum thinks that she'd like to dance alongside the woman painted there.
"She was my mother," Roy explains, voice soft as he finds Larum in front of the image for the fifth consecutive night, "and the late Lady Ninian of Pherae."
"I'm sorry," Larum says, mostly because she's not sure what else she ought to. For someone like her, with no maternal figure to speak of, sympathizing is difficult. But the look Roy has in his eyes is one of awe, not one of grief, so she more cheerfully adds, "She's very beautiful."
And she means it, especially when she glances back to "Ninian" and sees all the similarities between the dancer and Roy that she had been ignorant to.
Roy laughs, almost sheepish. "Dancers often are."
Larum's heart skips at the unspoken compliment, and she finds it skipping a second time as she looks to Roy to see his ears flushed a delicate pink. Despite the inevitable melancholy nature of their conversation, her own sheepish smile tugs at her lips, gaze dropping down to her feet. Her dancer's feet, she thinks, studying her fitted slippers. Idly, Larum wonders if Roy's feet are the same, wonders if he could carry himself the same way as the late Lady Ninian if he cared to. She's sure he could; Roy is a paragon, a boy who never fails to meet and exceed humanity's expectations.
On the other hand, the idea of Pherae's hero having two left feet is endlessly endearing, and she finds her heart skipping a third time at the thought.
"Did you ever see her dance?"
The question prompts Roy out of his own thoughts, bringing his own gaze away from the mural and to Larum's face. "Several times. I was only a child when she passed, but this room was her kingdom. Her dance was the law."
We are still only children, Larum wants to chime, but with Roy, her actions have always rung louder than her words. A cheeky smile pulls at her lips as she reaches for his hand, tugging him away from the mural and to the centre of the ballroom. He stumbles a bit as he follows her, but Larum is happy to notice that he makes no efforts to squirm away, even as his cheeks flush a bit pinker at the contact.
"Teach me!" she sing-songs, dropping Roy's hand and turning to face him. "I want to see Lady Ninian's lawful dance."
Roy's mouth opens, only to close a quick second later, blue eyes looking everywhere but at her. "She never really taught me herself, you know," he murmurs, "It was nothing like the typical waltz... Her dance was special."
"That's why I want to see it!" Larum replies, and when Roy bites down on his lip, she knows it won't take much more to convince him. "You said it yourself, right? You saw it all the time."
A moment in silence passes - ah, Larum wonders if the lack of music will be a problem - but then Roy steps back, moving to hold one hand away from his body and the other above his head. "Don't laugh," he says, before drawing in one last shaky breath, "I'm not nearly as graceful as you or Mother are."
If Larum were to be honest, just the request not to laugh makes her want to tease him further, but any thought of doing so leaves her as soon as he begins to dance. Roy wasn't actually lying about not being graceful, and each step and twirl he makes look like something from a textbook diagram rather than something as fluid as this dance is obviously meant to be. Still, Larum wasn't wrong about how cute him having two left feet would be, and a fresh rush of endearment surges through her as she continues to watch breathlessly.
If there's any plus side to Roy's stiff movements, it's that it makes the dance much easier to pick up than it might be otherwise. Clearing her throat, Larum imitates Roy's initial stance and begins to dance alongside and around him. It takes a moment for him to notice, of course, most of his attention directed towards his own clumsy feet, but in time he looks up long enough for Larum to shoot him a playful smile. His own grin is much more uncertain, reminiscent of the way he used to smile when she'd approach him on the battlefield, and Larum bites down a giggle at just how cute Pherae's hero is.
As they continue to spiral around one another, however, Larum finds herself almost forgetting that Roy is there at all. It's a lonesome dance, she thinks, yet rejuvenating in a way that is both very different and very similar to her own. Her gaze flicks back to the mural, back to where the late Lady Ninian dances for all eternity, and wonders if she will ever breathe the same life into this ballroom as the former Lady of Pherae once had.