Hey guys! Welcome back to Hear a Tale! Got too busy to post last week, but it's NaNoWriMo season again, and I'm ready to buckle down and write! Before we get to the chapter, though, review time!

Thanks so much to CitrusChickadee for reviewing! Our boy Cyrus finally gets his chance to be a nerd for a willing audience, so proud of him :') And I get my own chance to be an Octopath nerd by inventing god lore at the same time! XD Glad you enjoyed!

With that, on with the tale!

Relevant Events: Post- Primrose's Chapter Three

35. Hold My Hand

"I feel ridiculous."

Primrose couldn't help but giggle at Therion's scowl as the thief folded his arms over his barely-covered chest, the bracelets on his wrist clanking against his Fool's Bangle. The realization that her soft laughter no longer made the tender wound on her stomach twinge with pain was a pleasant surprise, second only to the fact that Therion was actually playing along with her plan to get back into exercising.

Of course, it may have been less of a surprise, had her plan not included outfitting the sullen thief with elegant, violet dancer's regalia.

"Well, I think you look wonderful," Primrose chuckled, though not disingenuously. "You wear the color well, and the golden jewelry makes for a fine accent…though it's a shame that your ears aren't pierced. I have a set of earrings that I know would look lovely on you."

"I don't make a habit of allowing people near my face with sharp objects," Therion deadpanned. "Besides, is all this really necessary for a practice session? I feel like it doesn't need to be this…flashy."

Primrose smirked. "Therion, darling, performative dance is all about being 'flashy.' It's just not genuine if you're not dressed for the part you play…though I'm sure I don't need to tell you that. How many times have you stolen disguises in order to act your way into a successful theft?"

"...that's different," the thief muttered. "We're alone. No one's going to see anything. The others are in town, and I'm not even convinced that anyone else is even staying at this inn right now. We're not actually 'performing' for anyone. You can wear whatever you want, but I don't see why agreeing to help you get back to dancing prevents me from wearing a shirt."

"Aside from aesthetic purposes?" Primrose teased, winking at Therion as his scowl deepened and his face flushed red. "It's simple, really. Light, non-restrictive clothing is easiest to move about in. A thick shawl and scarf would limit your movement, not to mention cause you to overheat from the exertion. Having a form-fitting top also helps with smoother movement, and the minimal amount of fabric is meant to keep you cool."

"I do just fine wearing those clothes into battle…" Despite his complaints, though, Therion heaved a long-suffering sigh and begrudgingly nodded. "But fine. You're the expert here. Just…tell me what you need me to do before I regret taking pity on you."

The dancer hid another wry smile. Therion could protest all he wanted, but even his sharp glares and aloof demeanor couldn't conceal the fact that he'd been watching Primrose's condition like a hawk ever since Simeon had stabbed her. He might refuse to admit it aloud, but he'd been deeply worried about her, and would ultimately be willing to do whatever he could to aid in her recovery.

Even dance.

"Very well, then." Primrose stretched slowly, testing her body's limits before a throb of pain would prevent her from going any further. "We'll begin with some simple, easy steps, both for my sake and yours. I assume you've never really danced much?"

At this, Therion's glower melted into a smug smirk. "A bold assumption," he drawled, finally lowering his folded arms and resting his hands on his hips instead, "but I'd bet that my dancing partners at the galas I've snuck into over the years would beg to differ."

Primrose's eyebrows lifted. "Well, now…I suppose I should've expected such a bold move from a Master Thief. And here I thought you preferred pickpocketing noblemen on the street…"

Therion's visible eye glinted with mischief. "How do you think I got the disguises to get in there in the first place?"

"Well, then!" The dancer's head tilted back in a genuine laugh. "I suppose I should've guessed as much. Far be it from me to doubt a professional's dedication to his role."

"They always say you can go anywhere if you look like you belong, don't they? Same goes for thievery. It's all about confidence - " He lifted a familiar golden necklace, holding it delicately aloft with two fingers as he grinned wickedly. " - and misdirection."

Primrose blinked. Her hand went to her throat, finding only bare skin where the elaborate jewelry had once been. "...misdirection, indeed," she echoed, thoroughly stunned and thoroughly impressed. "I don't even recall you moving from that spot since this conversation began. I don't suppose you'd be willing to explain how you pulled that off?"

"Sorry, Prim," Therion replied, tossing the necklace back to the dancer, who caught it and immediately began clasping it back around her neck, "but there are some secrets that any thief worth his salt just can't reveal." His lips twitched into a crooked smirk. "Though I suppose I could give you a few tips sometime. You never know when you're going to need to slip into an aristocrat's gala and relieve a few of the noblewomen there of their jewels."

"Not an activity I've ever found myself needing to participate in, personally," Primrose chuckled. "Have you robbed everyone you've ever danced with, Therion?"

He shrugged. "Not like I've ever had any other reason to dance with someone before. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly fond of prolonged social encounters…unless there's a few leaves to be made from it, that is."

"Mhm…well, hopefully I can give you a new reason to dance that doesn't involve coin." The dancer smiled. "And perhaps later, I'll take you up on that offer to show me a few thieving tricks. Just for fun, of course."

"Heh…right."

"Now…shall we begin?"

At Therion's nod, Primrose took a deep breath, adjusted her newly-reclaimed necklace, and straightened her posture. She usually preferred to practice her dances alone, but this was different - more of an exercise routine than preparation for a performance. Besides, the injury to her stomach was healing nicely, but still occasionally gave her trouble. She wasn't so prideful that she'd risk pushing herself too hard too soon and getting hurt without someone else there to help.

And anyway, she couldn't deny that she was looking forward to seeing what sort of dancer Therion could truly be.

"First…" Primrose extended her arm out towards the thief. "You'll need to hold my hand."

Therion's visible eyebrow lifted. "Er…right." His earlier swagger fading into careful uncertainty, he gingerly reached out and placed his hand in Primrose's. The Fool's Bangle on his wrist clanked slightly against both of their sets of bracelets, but neither of them brought any attention to its presence.

Primrose nodded. "Good. Next…you'll want to place your other hand on my waist."

As expected, the thief's face flushed almost instantaneously.

"Come now, Therion," the dancer chided teasingly, "it's just a simple waltz to get my muscles used to following a rhythm again. If you've really snuck into ballrooms in the past like you've said, you should have done this before, no?"

"...it was only a couple of times, years ago," Therion muttered, "and it's not like I went there for the dancing, anyway…" Still, he complied, setting his left hand awkwardly against her bare waist, his movements slow and uncertain as though her skin would burn him. "...okay. Now what?"

"Now, my other hand goes here." Primrose stepped forward, closing the distance between them as she draped her right arm over his left, her hand resting on his shoulder. Therion's visible eye widened a fraction, and his whole body tensed noticeably.

The two silently stood face to face for a long moment, and Primrose quickly realized that this was the most direct physical contact she had ever seen Therion allow. She frowned slightly, watching his lower lip twitch - he was likely chewing the inside of it to ribbons within his mouth.

"Therion," she said softly, her voice devoid of her earlier mirth, "you can tell me if you're not comfortable with this."

At first, he did not speak. Then, with a heavy sigh, he answered, "...no. I'm fine. Just…not used to being this close to someone I'm not planning to steal from."

His tone was light, but there was a flicker of something deeper, something Primrose couldn't quite place, in his jade eye. She had seen how paranoid the thief could be, though he hid it all beneath a veneer of caustic sarcasm. He constantly looked over his shoulder, slept upright, with a sheathed knife in his hand, and had a myriad of tics and superstitions that he'd get twitchy over if he couldn't carry them out. Before he'd met her and the rest of their traveling companions, he'd avoided people like the plague, afraid of daring to trust anyone aside from himself. He was getting better the longer they traveled together, but he still didn't quite know how to be wholly comfortable in close quarters with other people.

Primrose could relate, to some extent. She was more than accustomed to physical contact already, true, but in the beginning, it had been difficult to open up emotionally to the others. She had survived her years in Sunshade by making herself as unapproachable as possible, donning the mask of an aloof diva, which only Yusufa had ever really seen through. It was a strange experience, being surrounded by a group of people who weren't solely interested in her swaying hips or sultry touch. Against all odds, all seven of them actually cared about her, Primrose Azelhart, and about what she thought and how she felt.

She imagined that a lone wolf like Therion had struggled just as much with adjusting to the sudden onslaught of positive attention as she did. They both had spent so long in the shadows that even the smallest rays of light were blinding.

"Alright," Primrose murmured, studying Therion's face. Was that a scar on his jawline, just barely peeking out from his long, white bangs? "I'll believe you…for now. But if you want to take a break for any reason, you have to promise that you'll tell me, okay?"

Therion eyed her face as well, and she couldn't help but wonder what he was looking for, and what he had found. "...okay," he said finally, lifting his chin in what was likely an attempt to project confidence. "I promise."

She smiled slightly. "Good."

For the next several minutes, she walked him through the steps of a simple waltz, counting under her breath to keep time. Though it wasn't much, it was easily the most exercise Primrose had gotten since she had been stabbed, and she immediately recognized that staying away from the faster, more energetic dances she knew had been a wise decision. She was keenly aware of the discomfort that tugged at her stomach with every step, and though she had earlier promised Alfyn that she wouldn't overdo it, she knew that she would never feel any better if she did nothing but lie about and languish in her sorrow. She had already had to endure the indignity of being carried by Olberic all the way across the continent while fleeing from Noblecourt to Wellspring once - she wasn't going to let it happen again.

Therion, for his part, moved with a practiced grace that was wholly unsurprising. Primrose might never have seen him dance before, but she had seen how deftly he could dart through the shadows, had witnessed him becoming a whirl of flashing blades in the midst of battle. The thief was in perfect control of his own body, just as she was, and she found herself smiling at his easy elegance.

He really could be a dancer if he tried, she thought, only partially in amusement.

Therion narrowed his eye slightly at her unconcealed smile. "Having fun, huh?" His voice was still a bit clipped, but most of his earlier tension had melted away as they fell into the simple rhythm of the dance.

"Just glad to be on my feet again," Primrose replied airily, "and glad to have found a suitably skilled dance partner amongst our group. Thank the gods that you've at least got better rhythm than Cyrus and H'aanit put together."

Therion snorted. "That's not exactly a high bar to clear."

"Even so, I'm being sincere," she laughed. "I can see why you've been able to pull off those couple of ballroom heists in the past without attracting suspicion…I dare say you're a natural. You'd fit right in at a dance hall."

"'Heists' is a strong word…besides, it's not like I'm doing anything particularly spectacular, anyway. Anyone can manage a waltz."

Primrose laughed dryly, thinking once more of their resident uncoordinated huntress and scholar. "You would be surprised. Really, though…" She smiled, squeezing Therion's hand a bit. "Thank you. I truly do appreciate you doing this for me."

"Er…r-right…" His jade eye flicked in the direction of their entwined hands, then returned to resolutely staring at the empty space over Primrose's shoulder. "You're, uh…you're welcome. You still owe me one, though. For the outfit, I mean."

She smirked playfully. "Still not a fan?"

"Still feel completely ridiculous."

"Ah, well…perhaps we'll get you used to it eventually. In the meantime - "

"You absolutely will not get me used to it!"

"- may I continue to have this dance?"

"...yeah, sure, fine…" As he dropped his head to avert his gaze from her triumphant grin, his next mumbled words were only just barely audible.

"I doubt I could ever say no to you at this point, anyway…"

See you guys next time for Tale 36: Precious Treasure!