This chapter was inspired by the song When You Taught Me How To Dance by Katie Melua. It was requested by… Oh dear, I've forgotten. If you requested this one, please raise your hand.

When You Taught Me How To Dance

The Dominion of Canada kept to the sidelines. He always had. It was in his nature to be quiet and unassuming. Polite. He was a wallflower.

He worried the starched collar of his velvet jacket, watching the nations twirl around the ballroom in brilliant silks and brocades.

He was alone. His brothers and sisters were not nearly as shy as he was and they mingled and danced with the older nations. They seemed so much more graceful and eloquent and poised and he was jealous. He was none of those things.

So he just kept out of the way.

He ran his fingers over his smooth jacket and concentrated on the stitching. The buttons. It was blue with red trim and he was proud of it. His trousers were pressed and his shoes caught the candlelight. His brother had tied a red ribbon in his hair and it kept his curls from falling into his eyes.

He looked up when the music changes again, the orchestra readjusting, and frowned as nations switched partners amongst laughter. Even nations at war with each other were civil when there was excellent music and wine abounding.

Canada was not allowed any wine. It did not seem to matter how old he actually was, just how old he looked. And he looked about thirteen.

One of his sisters ran past him in bare feet and a fluttering of skirts. Another dominion ran after her.

He stayed where he was.

"What are you waiting for?"

Canada turned on his heel to see a pale nation looming over him with a goblet of wine or mead. His jacket was also blue.

"I'm sorry…?" Canada bit his lip and tried not to make eye contact, feeling small and bashful. The other man grabbed his chin between two fingers and forced Canada to look at him.

His eyes were startling and bright. Red…

Canada was entranced.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," he grunted and studied Canada.

"I'm sorry, sir. I will."

"Damn right you will. And my name is Gilbert."

"I am the Dominion of Canada."

"That's nice." He rolled his eyes. "Who are you really?"

"But I am…"

"Yes, yes, I know. But I am Königreich Preußen; my name is Gilbert. See?"

And Canada did see. He was not asking for his station, or title, or purpose. He was asking who he was.

It was sort of refreshing.

"Ah. Matthew. My name is Matthew," he whispered.

Gilbert smiled for the first time then and let go of his chin. He ruffled his hair.

"Hello, Matthew. Now, what are you waiting for?"

"Uhm, nothing, sir."

"Bullshit. Boys don't just stand around unless they're waiting for something. Why aren't you dancing?"

Canada, no, Matthew looked out across the ballroom. It hummed with the keening of violins and the rustle of petticoats. It was very intimidating.

"I do not dance."

"Don't or can't?"

"Excuse me?"

Gilbert snorted.

"You don't dance or you can't dance?"

Matthew thought about it. He had never even tried to dance, at least not these strange Europeans steps, so he did not know whether or not he could dance.

He twisted the hem of his jacket between fidgeting fingers.

"Uhm, I cannot dance, I suppose."

Gilbert inspected him.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with you, so we're just going to fix that." He swallowed the last of his wine and threw the goblet behind him, not caring where it shattered. He scooped up Matthew and threw him over his shoulder.

"Ah! No! Stop!"

"No."

"Please!"

"No." He put him down in the centre of the ballroom just as another song started up and Matthew froze. The other nations were watching them. He tried to turn and run but Gilbert grabbed him and held his hand and shoulder. "Come on, then. Let's dance."

"I do not… I cannot…"

"Put your hand on my hip."

Matthew just stared at him with too wide eyes.

"I…"

"Here." And his hand was on his hip. "Now step forward and I'll follow your lead."

Matthew wanted to point out that Gilbert was dancing the part of the woman but he thought better of it and stepped forward instead. Gilbert stepped back with him. And then they stepped to the side. And back again.

He was waltzing!

Matthew tried to contain his excitement but it was impossible. He was smiling and laughing and Gilbert smiled back. It was a softer expression than Matthew ever expected to see on him.

It was all going so well... And then the music changed and the dance changed too.

He stumbled.

Gilbert chuckled and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"Tell you what… Stand on my feet."

"Are you sure...?"

"Yes. It's my turn to lead."

Matthew raised an eyebrow but Gilbert just smiled. He stepped onto his feet and gasped when Gilbert took off across the ballroom and brought Matthew along for the ride.

He started giggling, feeling like the child he looked like. Gilbert darted between the other nations and twirled Matthew through the crowd. Matthew looked into his eyes, smitten, and decided that he would marry Gilbert when he grew up.

After all, it only seemed proper.

Author's Notes:

I've been locked out of my account for some strange reason but it let me back on this week. So I was not ignoring you, I promise! I posted a couple of little drabbles on my tumblr account in the meantime but anything substantial ends up on here. I'll send out replies soon.

So here's another piece for Inspired. I enjoyed writing this one. Because Matthew was so sweet in his youth.

And dancing with small children at parties is a time honoured tradition. I did it as a child, and now I take them for a spin as an adult. Oh, and little kids always decide to marry people on a whim, even when they do not understand how it works. I've had many premature proposals myself.