fic: The Dance Continues On
Aug. 12th, 2022 01:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: The Dance Continues On
Series: FE4/5 / FEH
Character/pairing: Reinhardt/Ishtar (background), Fred/Olwen, Leif/Nanna, Deirdre/Sigurd, Seliph, Leif, Ethlyn/Quan
Rating: PG at very most.
Word count: 3,480
Summary: The Splendid Soiree continues: Olwen finds herself a suitable dance partner, Leif and Seliph reunite with their parents for a moment, Nanna catches a glimpse of the her mother, and Ishtar and Reinhardt are still dancing.
Author's note:
Dancer Reinhardt's quote of "I hope my sister finds a suitable partner to dance with" lives rent free in my mind, alongside the thought of the dancer banner being revived with Dancer!Olwen, Dancer!Fred and Dancer!Leif and Dancer!Nanna. Not sure who the TT freebie would be. Maybe Dancer Lifis crashing the party to steal stuff?
Hopefully this can be my good luck charm to bring this mf home when he reruns. Come home, Dancer Reinhardt. Him not being in the last Thracia HOF was a travesty and I'm still pissed.
Also, canon note: This Olwen is one that came pre-River Thracia, so she's not hostile to Reinhardt. The Leif and Nanna, and Seliph, however, came post game. This Ishtar broke up with Julius at some point, and came prior to the end of the game and neither she nor Reinhardt died. (Despite it seeming that D!Ishtar and D!Reinhardt are actually from some earlier timeline, for this particular story we will pretend she is a post-game survived Ishtar.)
The grand hall was lit with beautiful lanterns. A lively tune of violins led the dance on. The dance floor was full of beautiful dancers.The skirts swirled as each lady was turned in effortlessly graceful waltz. And none was so graceful as her brother. He wasn't just a master at being a general and knight, but a dancer as well.
Olwen felt no jealousy when she watched Reinhardt. Despite them being siblings, she'd never really envied Reinhardt. If anything, it was just the inspiration to work harder on her skills too, so she could reach his level on day. Dancing as well, for she'd let her lessons falter after she entered the knight academy.
And she should've known better. She'd practiced these steps countless times. Mother always said that a Friegean knight needed to be skilled in battle and dance, for flexibility was key in both endeavors.
Perhaps she'd visit the table of food again. Everyone else had paired up but her. It was fine, really. There'd be other parties. She pushed down the slight disappointment down. It wasn't like she had someone in mind...
Well, maybe. It was just a little crush. Nothing she'd lose her head over. Just when he smiled at her, and supported her even when she let her temper flare...and how calm and kind he was...
Well....
She had a long dress of a shade between blue and green. The skirt was flared with soft frills of lace and material. It was high collared, and had an edging of gold from the skirts to the sleeves. Lace came high and rough against her neck. Over it was layered gold jewelry which made soft clinking noises as she moved.
She caught sight of him across the dance floor, weaving through dancers and coming towards her.
Was that--?
It was!
Fred was a bit taller than her, with hair that always was slightly messy. He'd traded his Friegean robes for an officer's dress suit, with his dark coat slung over one shoulder. He smiled when he saw her.
She smiled, too.
She clutched her drink a little closer.
"Fred! I didn't know you'd been summoned to Askr as well."
"I just got here. I was looking for you, actually."
"Y-You were? I mean, of course you were."
She pushed her hair behind her ear. Because he was her knight.
"We should catch up," she said. "For old times sake, of course."
Not like she'd thought of him, almost to distraction in all the time it took for him to come to here. Of course not.
"A dance, then? Only if you wished," she said.
"I must confess, I'm not an expert dancer," Fred said.
"That's okay. I think I'm quite rusty. Sorry in advance if I step on your feet."
"I'll forgive you if you do," Fred said.
Fred was nice, he was good natured and solid. He was also several years older than her, but that just made him more mature. She was very focused on getting stronger. Too much so to focus on romance now.
And it was just a silly little crush. Really.
But, she felt so light and warm in his arms. He didn't even mind when she stepped on his foot. In fact, they both laughed and leaned in.
"I'm glad you're finally here in Askr," she said.
"Me too."
*
Seliph stood at the edge of the dance floor and watched. Deirdre never let go of Sigurd's hand. She stayed close, with such a look of wonder.
His face, often called gentle and soft, resembled his mother's. His hair, and even the white officer's dress suit, edged with gold buttons upon his breast resembled Sigurd.
Neither of them realized what would happen within his time to them. They were blissfully unaware, dancing the night away and full of such happiness.
The last thing he wanted was to break that happiness, even as a part of him ached to come closer and know the parents he'd never had the chance to remember.
He should leave....
But, he just wanted this one moment to see what he had lost.
Deirdre looked up and her violet eyes met Seliph's. Her long, shimmering hair fell off her shoulders. She dropped Sigurd's hand and began to step closer. Sigurd's brow furrowed as he followed after her.
"What is it, Deirdre?"
"He....He will be my son in the...future," she said.
Sigurd looked to her, then to him.
"Deirdre has a knack for knowing things. I trust her judgment completely. What's your name?"
He was overwhelmed by this man who he only knew in folktales and stories from other people. He was boisterous, charismatic, and had a presence unlike anyone Seliph had ever known. His laughter echoed through the room, and in this, perhaps he could understand why his mother had fallen in love in one meeting.
Because, both of them were unforgettable. He would never lose this moment. The way Sigurd protectively kept his arm about Deirdre. The closest Seliph would ever get to a look into what he had lost.
Sigurd, the leader, the traitor, and the man who would've been his father if he had survived. Seliph didn't even have memories of them.
"...Seliph," he said softly.
"That's a good name," Sigurd said.
"Askr is a strange place of meetings. I am glad that I could meet you," Deirdre said.
"We should have a drink together. You can tell me about the future."
"That's..." Seliph cleared his throat.
He wouldn't wish to destroy their happiness and tell of the flames, the loss. How he would grow up far away, raised in an orphanage with many of the other surviving children of Sigurd's army. How he would only know Sigurd from stories and folk songs. And many of them focused upon his death.
They were caught in this moment. Summoned to Askr before they ever felt tragedy. Endlessly dancing, captured in glass.
The best thing he could do is let them be, and hope they could stay in Askr, where that happiness could continue.
"I should take my leave. Pardon me," Seliph said softly.
"Wait, where are you going?" Sigurd said, as Seliph began to step away.
"I need to get some refreshment."
"Oh, go on, then. I hope we see each other soon," Sigurd said.
Seliph lost himself among the dancers, and went away from his parents. To do so was just as difficult as leading the Liberation Army.
He hoped they stayed this way forever, and that the dream never ended for them.
*
Ethlyn's laugh was so loud, it could be heard even over the music. She leaned in, her fan out as she spoke to Quan. She teased him, enough to get a rise. He took her hand.
Her party dress was just as bright and lively as her hair, and her laugh. Quan was quieter, steady and sturdy. He'd never seen them in anything but the few portraits which hadn't been destroyed when Manster fell.
His mother and father. Laughing uproariously, dancing together as if their blood wouldn't stain the Yied desert years later.
Ethlyn caught sight of him, and nudged Quan with her arm.
"Oi, that boy looks like you, Quan. You wouldn't have any secret brothers I don't know about, would you?"
"None that I know of," he said.
"You there, boy. Come sit a while," Ethlyn called out to him.
"Don't be too rude, you'll scare him away."
"He won't hear me over the violins and dancers, especially those two who keep laughing."
She gestured to Olwen and her knight, who danced, with many missed steps together, but laughed all the while.
And what could he say? That Thracia would be reunited, that he would avenge their deaths and become king with his dear Nanna by his side, but only long after their bones had yellowed in the sun of the Yied desert.
He'd never had a chance to mourn or graves to return to. He'd never get to say goodbye or know them. Even seeing them like this was too much. An ache he'd always remember.
"It really is remarkable. He looks just like you," Ethlyn said.
"What's your name?"
"Leif of Manster."
"Leif? That was the name I was going to name my child," Ethlyn said.
"I've heard of this. Askr is a land of many gateways and many times. Some report that they meet their past ancestors and future children here at times," Quan said.
He told them truthfully that Thracia was united, that it was glorious and full of peace.
He didn't say the tragedies which had happened, or what had been lost.
Let them have this one happy night, before all was lost.
"See, all will be well. One day, our son will rule a unified Thracia," Ethlyn said.
"I can't stay long. I have someone waiting for me."
"Well, I hope I meet you again, Leif of Manster. You're a fascinating kid," Ethlyn said.
She was everything and more that he heard of her. Boistrous and bold, and with a sharp tongue to match. And his father was just as strong.
"I hope we meet again," Leif said.
*
She didn't blame Lord Leif for being busy. For years, he'd worked with the Liberation Army, freed Thracia and avenged his parents. Nanna was used to waiting.
She wore a pink dress, faint frills at the skirt, with a slit in the side for movement that was almost Frigean in nature. Her dancing slippers were white, and pearlescent, to match the pearls at her neck. She sipped at her drink. Mere grape juice, for Finn would worry terribly if she drank too much.
Finn was always near, and worrying. He'd cared for Leif and her when their parents had been lost in battle. Even as Queen Nanna--often called Princess Nanna as an endearment--Finn still worried incessantly over her.
She caught sight of a lovely red dress, and long blond hair much like her own. Her heart clenched as she recognized the woman there.
Younger, far more innocent and touched by tragedy, but still Lachesis.
"Mother..." she said softly.
Mother had disappeared in the Yied desert years ago. For so long, Nanna had cried silent tears into her pillow and wished to see her again.
And even that seemed selfish, for so many had lost both their parents. Like Seiph, and Larcei and Scathatch. She still had her mother for many years.
She watched Lachesis take a dance with her brother. She'd never met Eldigan, but he was just as well-dressed and gentlemanly as Lachesis spoke of him.
Even though it made her mother cry, Lachesis never let the memory of Eldigan the lionheart die. A knight without compare, no one could ever match him. Even as sobs broke her tale, she would go on and speak of the knight who was unfairly sent to the execution block when all he wished was for order and peace.
She didn't interrupt her mother in that moment. Mother didn't realize it then, but in their time, she'd lose her brother. Maybe once the dance was over she could come a little closer.
And what to say? This version of her was young, younger even than Nanna was herself.
She turned away. Prince--now king--Leif was before her. In white dress uniform, that made him look so very handsome. Even married to him for some time, she blushed as he offered his hand.
"Sorry for making you wait," Leif said.
"No, it's fine," she said softly.
"I see, you've caught sight of your mother. Will you speak to her? I can wait, if you wish time alone."
"Not yet. She doesn't know, but she should treasure every last minute with Eldigan," Nanna said.
He nodded solemnly. "In Askr, even Eldigan has a second chance at life."
"Would you do me the honor of a dance, Princess Nanna?" Leif said.
Like their wedding dance, which had lasted until her feet hurt.
"Of course, my love," Nanna said breathlessly.
At times on the dance floor, the dance would spin them just near Lachesis.
*
"Are you quite tired, Lady Ishtar? You have been dancing for some time."
"A little, but I shan't wish to stop. Not now. It feels like a dream, being like this."
She blushed. She'd almost said the words In your arms and made an admission she was still dealing with herself.
For, some time ago she had parted ways with her love--former love. A wound which was still healing. She had turned her back upon Julius to save the children, even as her heart felt as if it would break apart due to grief for all she had lost.
She let out a soft sigh.
"Perhaps a small respite would be good."
"Yes, that is for the best."
He let go of her hand as they walked towards the side of the dance floor, to where many chaises and chairs were. She picked one with a high back, and frowned at the sudden--disappointment.
She'd wished deep down that he'd held her hand for just a little longer.
"Do you wish for a drink? Some nourishment?" Reinhardt said.
"I think I will be fine for now. But, thank you, Reinhardt."
Reinhardt sat somewhat close beside her, with a chair between them. His dark officer's dress clothes were quite stunning, even as much so as his footwork.
Ah, he could dance as well as he fought. She'd never had such a graceful and gentle partner on the dance floor before.
Ishtar looked over at the dancers in all their grace, and noticed a familiar face among them.
"Ah, look at that. Olwen found herself a partner at last," Ishtar said.
"Hmm? Yes. I must meet him later on," Reinhardt said.
Ishtar smiled indulgently. "Now, Reinhardt. Don't be too hard upon him."
"He could be my future brother-in-law. I should wish to get a good look at him and be properly introduced," Reinhardt said.
"So you can interrogate him?" she teased.
"Hopefully, such drastic matters would not be necessary. I would hope my sister would choose someone well suited for her."
"It's just a dance, Reinhardt. It could be nothing but a dance between friends."
She almost said like us, but stopped. For it did not quite feel right. Her relationship was quite complex with Reinhardt. He was her protector, her most trusted, her confidant. She relied him in so many ways. Every single day she sought him out for comfort, council, companionship and more.
And it had left Julius in jealous fits, and growing violence and fury, until he wished to kill Reinhardt in the most violent ways possible.
Well, that was past. Just the thought of how Julius's descent left her with a deep sadness.
She was still dealing with the guilt that she had left him even as she loved him, that she had chosen herself, her morals, and saving the innocent children over him.
When he did the unthinkable, the vile, the horrific, she could no longer be his beloved and join him in such vile crimes. She took a path her own to save those that her former lover had kidnapped to sacrifice to the flames of Loptous.
Reinhardt had comforted and supported her all through this pain as she left the man she loved when she could not take any longer the atrocities he committed. He helped her at every point, both in Jugdral and Askr.
She thought she would never love again, after the pain of leaving Julius. As if her heart were irrevocably broken from so much loss in such a short time.
Yet, here she was. Dancing, light and joyous. How time mended wounds.
"I do worry for her, though. Should anyone try and harm her..." He trailed off, but there was a dark look in his eyes. He did not have to finish those words. Reinhardt was filled with untold power, and the force of a storm. Should anyone hurt Olwen, or Ishtar herself, the would be struck down with the force of lightning in an instant.
She patted his hand. "Yes, I am sure she knows that as well. That you would never let anyone hurt her. But, you can't protect her from everything."
"You're right. She's grown now. I'm still adjusting to that my baby sister is an adult and soon may marry. I know I must let her fight her own battles, and am gladdened she found a suitable partner to dance with, but I would not stand idly by if she fell in love with someone who would be cruel to her."
"Of course. I think she knows that too. That even as you wish her to grow stronger, you also would not idly stand by if someone wished to hurt her."
"But, I think you forget too that Olwen has a temper. She would not abide by someone who mistreated her. Why, I pity anyone who would try and face her."
He smiled. "Yes, you are right. I should trust her judgment--and ability with a tome--more."
"I think I've rested enough. Are you up to another dance?" Ishtar said.
"For you, I'd gladly take to the dance floor all night," Reinhardt said.
"Until our feet hurt?"
"And beyond," he said.
She took his hand again, and she felt that feeling of almost dizzying lightness she'd almost forgotten. What a relief to have her hand enclosed in his again, his arm about her, steadying her as they waltzed together. One that she'd hadn't known for a long time, that she thought gone from her life.
Not since Julius and her had parted ways.
She did not name it in this moment, even as she knew. She simply lost herself in the footwork and the dance, and in Reinhardt's warm arms.
*
Olwen had never laughed harder. Fred's hand lingered at her back as they left the dance floor.
"Oh, my old dance teacher would be ashamed of me. I almost feel I must apologize for such a showing. I truly am rusty."
"No need. I barely even even felt your feet," Fred said.
"I did so five times, or more," Olwen said.
"Still," he said.
Ah, there was Reinhardt again. His dancing steps were peerless as ever. She had a lot to catch up to.
"There's my brother," she said proudly.
Princess Ishtar was in his arms for another dance, and she had such a soft look upon her face.
"I've heard of him. He's an imposing figure," Fred said gravely.
"Oh, he's very kind. Why, are you worried?"
"I am dancing with the little sister of a man who could strike me down effortlessly," Fred said dryly. "I have much to worry for."
"He wouldn't. Not unless you were a bad person. And you're not. You're the most steadfast person I know."
"Is that another way of saying boring?" Fred said.
"No! You're kind, and even when I lose my temper, you calm me down. I couldn't ask for a better second-in-command," Olwen said.
She took his hand in hers.
"Are you tired for another dance? I need to practice," she said.
"Is that the only reason?"
Olwen blushed. "W-What?"
She pushed her short and dark hair behind her ears.
"Not entirely...you're fun," she said.
"I guess I'm not so boring, then?"
"No, not at all. I'm always glad when you're there with me. Now, Apologies in advance if I step on your feet," Olwen said.
"I'll forgive you," Fred said.
*
Even as the night went on, the dancers kept dancing. It was as if the clock stopped, caught in this beautiful moment. Even if the future might end in flames back in their world, they had this night.
Series: FE4/5 / FEH
Character/pairing: Reinhardt/Ishtar (background), Fred/Olwen, Leif/Nanna, Deirdre/Sigurd, Seliph, Leif, Ethlyn/Quan
Rating: PG at very most.
Word count: 3,480
Summary: The Splendid Soiree continues: Olwen finds herself a suitable dance partner, Leif and Seliph reunite with their parents for a moment, Nanna catches a glimpse of the her mother, and Ishtar and Reinhardt are still dancing.
Author's note:
Dancer Reinhardt's quote of "I hope my sister finds a suitable partner to dance with" lives rent free in my mind, alongside the thought of the dancer banner being revived with Dancer!Olwen, Dancer!Fred and Dancer!Leif and Dancer!Nanna. Not sure who the TT freebie would be. Maybe Dancer Lifis crashing the party to steal stuff?
Hopefully this can be my good luck charm to bring this mf home when he reruns. Come home, Dancer Reinhardt. Him not being in the last Thracia HOF was a travesty and I'm still pissed.
Also, canon note: This Olwen is one that came pre-River Thracia, so she's not hostile to Reinhardt. The Leif and Nanna, and Seliph, however, came post game. This Ishtar broke up with Julius at some point, and came prior to the end of the game and neither she nor Reinhardt died. (Despite it seeming that D!Ishtar and D!Reinhardt are actually from some earlier timeline, for this particular story we will pretend she is a post-game survived Ishtar.)
The grand hall was lit with beautiful lanterns. A lively tune of violins led the dance on. The dance floor was full of beautiful dancers.The skirts swirled as each lady was turned in effortlessly graceful waltz. And none was so graceful as her brother. He wasn't just a master at being a general and knight, but a dancer as well.
Olwen felt no jealousy when she watched Reinhardt. Despite them being siblings, she'd never really envied Reinhardt. If anything, it was just the inspiration to work harder on her skills too, so she could reach his level on day. Dancing as well, for she'd let her lessons falter after she entered the knight academy.
And she should've known better. She'd practiced these steps countless times. Mother always said that a Friegean knight needed to be skilled in battle and dance, for flexibility was key in both endeavors.
Perhaps she'd visit the table of food again. Everyone else had paired up but her. It was fine, really. There'd be other parties. She pushed down the slight disappointment down. It wasn't like she had someone in mind...
Well, maybe. It was just a little crush. Nothing she'd lose her head over. Just when he smiled at her, and supported her even when she let her temper flare...and how calm and kind he was...
Well....
She had a long dress of a shade between blue and green. The skirt was flared with soft frills of lace and material. It was high collared, and had an edging of gold from the skirts to the sleeves. Lace came high and rough against her neck. Over it was layered gold jewelry which made soft clinking noises as she moved.
She caught sight of him across the dance floor, weaving through dancers and coming towards her.
Was that--?
It was!
Fred was a bit taller than her, with hair that always was slightly messy. He'd traded his Friegean robes for an officer's dress suit, with his dark coat slung over one shoulder. He smiled when he saw her.
She smiled, too.
She clutched her drink a little closer.
"Fred! I didn't know you'd been summoned to Askr as well."
"I just got here. I was looking for you, actually."
"Y-You were? I mean, of course you were."
She pushed her hair behind her ear. Because he was her knight.
"We should catch up," she said. "For old times sake, of course."
Not like she'd thought of him, almost to distraction in all the time it took for him to come to here. Of course not.
"A dance, then? Only if you wished," she said.
"I must confess, I'm not an expert dancer," Fred said.
"That's okay. I think I'm quite rusty. Sorry in advance if I step on your feet."
"I'll forgive you if you do," Fred said.
Fred was nice, he was good natured and solid. He was also several years older than her, but that just made him more mature. She was very focused on getting stronger. Too much so to focus on romance now.
And it was just a silly little crush. Really.
But, she felt so light and warm in his arms. He didn't even mind when she stepped on his foot. In fact, they both laughed and leaned in.
"I'm glad you're finally here in Askr," she said.
"Me too."
*
Seliph stood at the edge of the dance floor and watched. Deirdre never let go of Sigurd's hand. She stayed close, with such a look of wonder.
His face, often called gentle and soft, resembled his mother's. His hair, and even the white officer's dress suit, edged with gold buttons upon his breast resembled Sigurd.
Neither of them realized what would happen within his time to them. They were blissfully unaware, dancing the night away and full of such happiness.
The last thing he wanted was to break that happiness, even as a part of him ached to come closer and know the parents he'd never had the chance to remember.
He should leave....
But, he just wanted this one moment to see what he had lost.
Deirdre looked up and her violet eyes met Seliph's. Her long, shimmering hair fell off her shoulders. She dropped Sigurd's hand and began to step closer. Sigurd's brow furrowed as he followed after her.
"What is it, Deirdre?"
"He....He will be my son in the...future," she said.
Sigurd looked to her, then to him.
"Deirdre has a knack for knowing things. I trust her judgment completely. What's your name?"
He was overwhelmed by this man who he only knew in folktales and stories from other people. He was boisterous, charismatic, and had a presence unlike anyone Seliph had ever known. His laughter echoed through the room, and in this, perhaps he could understand why his mother had fallen in love in one meeting.
Because, both of them were unforgettable. He would never lose this moment. The way Sigurd protectively kept his arm about Deirdre. The closest Seliph would ever get to a look into what he had lost.
Sigurd, the leader, the traitor, and the man who would've been his father if he had survived. Seliph didn't even have memories of them.
"...Seliph," he said softly.
"That's a good name," Sigurd said.
"Askr is a strange place of meetings. I am glad that I could meet you," Deirdre said.
"We should have a drink together. You can tell me about the future."
"That's..." Seliph cleared his throat.
He wouldn't wish to destroy their happiness and tell of the flames, the loss. How he would grow up far away, raised in an orphanage with many of the other surviving children of Sigurd's army. How he would only know Sigurd from stories and folk songs. And many of them focused upon his death.
They were caught in this moment. Summoned to Askr before they ever felt tragedy. Endlessly dancing, captured in glass.
The best thing he could do is let them be, and hope they could stay in Askr, where that happiness could continue.
"I should take my leave. Pardon me," Seliph said softly.
"Wait, where are you going?" Sigurd said, as Seliph began to step away.
"I need to get some refreshment."
"Oh, go on, then. I hope we see each other soon," Sigurd said.
Seliph lost himself among the dancers, and went away from his parents. To do so was just as difficult as leading the Liberation Army.
He hoped they stayed this way forever, and that the dream never ended for them.
*
Ethlyn's laugh was so loud, it could be heard even over the music. She leaned in, her fan out as she spoke to Quan. She teased him, enough to get a rise. He took her hand.
Her party dress was just as bright and lively as her hair, and her laugh. Quan was quieter, steady and sturdy. He'd never seen them in anything but the few portraits which hadn't been destroyed when Manster fell.
His mother and father. Laughing uproariously, dancing together as if their blood wouldn't stain the Yied desert years later.
Ethlyn caught sight of him, and nudged Quan with her arm.
"Oi, that boy looks like you, Quan. You wouldn't have any secret brothers I don't know about, would you?"
"None that I know of," he said.
"You there, boy. Come sit a while," Ethlyn called out to him.
"Don't be too rude, you'll scare him away."
"He won't hear me over the violins and dancers, especially those two who keep laughing."
She gestured to Olwen and her knight, who danced, with many missed steps together, but laughed all the while.
And what could he say? That Thracia would be reunited, that he would avenge their deaths and become king with his dear Nanna by his side, but only long after their bones had yellowed in the sun of the Yied desert.
He'd never had a chance to mourn or graves to return to. He'd never get to say goodbye or know them. Even seeing them like this was too much. An ache he'd always remember.
"It really is remarkable. He looks just like you," Ethlyn said.
"What's your name?"
"Leif of Manster."
"Leif? That was the name I was going to name my child," Ethlyn said.
"I've heard of this. Askr is a land of many gateways and many times. Some report that they meet their past ancestors and future children here at times," Quan said.
He told them truthfully that Thracia was united, that it was glorious and full of peace.
He didn't say the tragedies which had happened, or what had been lost.
Let them have this one happy night, before all was lost.
"See, all will be well. One day, our son will rule a unified Thracia," Ethlyn said.
"I can't stay long. I have someone waiting for me."
"Well, I hope I meet you again, Leif of Manster. You're a fascinating kid," Ethlyn said.
She was everything and more that he heard of her. Boistrous and bold, and with a sharp tongue to match. And his father was just as strong.
"I hope we meet again," Leif said.
*
She didn't blame Lord Leif for being busy. For years, he'd worked with the Liberation Army, freed Thracia and avenged his parents. Nanna was used to waiting.
She wore a pink dress, faint frills at the skirt, with a slit in the side for movement that was almost Frigean in nature. Her dancing slippers were white, and pearlescent, to match the pearls at her neck. She sipped at her drink. Mere grape juice, for Finn would worry terribly if she drank too much.
Finn was always near, and worrying. He'd cared for Leif and her when their parents had been lost in battle. Even as Queen Nanna--often called Princess Nanna as an endearment--Finn still worried incessantly over her.
She caught sight of a lovely red dress, and long blond hair much like her own. Her heart clenched as she recognized the woman there.
Younger, far more innocent and touched by tragedy, but still Lachesis.
"Mother..." she said softly.
Mother had disappeared in the Yied desert years ago. For so long, Nanna had cried silent tears into her pillow and wished to see her again.
And even that seemed selfish, for so many had lost both their parents. Like Seiph, and Larcei and Scathatch. She still had her mother for many years.
She watched Lachesis take a dance with her brother. She'd never met Eldigan, but he was just as well-dressed and gentlemanly as Lachesis spoke of him.
Even though it made her mother cry, Lachesis never let the memory of Eldigan the lionheart die. A knight without compare, no one could ever match him. Even as sobs broke her tale, she would go on and speak of the knight who was unfairly sent to the execution block when all he wished was for order and peace.
She didn't interrupt her mother in that moment. Mother didn't realize it then, but in their time, she'd lose her brother. Maybe once the dance was over she could come a little closer.
And what to say? This version of her was young, younger even than Nanna was herself.
She turned away. Prince--now king--Leif was before her. In white dress uniform, that made him look so very handsome. Even married to him for some time, she blushed as he offered his hand.
"Sorry for making you wait," Leif said.
"No, it's fine," she said softly.
"I see, you've caught sight of your mother. Will you speak to her? I can wait, if you wish time alone."
"Not yet. She doesn't know, but she should treasure every last minute with Eldigan," Nanna said.
He nodded solemnly. "In Askr, even Eldigan has a second chance at life."
"Would you do me the honor of a dance, Princess Nanna?" Leif said.
Like their wedding dance, which had lasted until her feet hurt.
"Of course, my love," Nanna said breathlessly.
At times on the dance floor, the dance would spin them just near Lachesis.
*
"Are you quite tired, Lady Ishtar? You have been dancing for some time."
"A little, but I shan't wish to stop. Not now. It feels like a dream, being like this."
She blushed. She'd almost said the words In your arms and made an admission she was still dealing with herself.
For, some time ago she had parted ways with her love--former love. A wound which was still healing. She had turned her back upon Julius to save the children, even as her heart felt as if it would break apart due to grief for all she had lost.
She let out a soft sigh.
"Perhaps a small respite would be good."
"Yes, that is for the best."
He let go of her hand as they walked towards the side of the dance floor, to where many chaises and chairs were. She picked one with a high back, and frowned at the sudden--disappointment.
She'd wished deep down that he'd held her hand for just a little longer.
"Do you wish for a drink? Some nourishment?" Reinhardt said.
"I think I will be fine for now. But, thank you, Reinhardt."
Reinhardt sat somewhat close beside her, with a chair between them. His dark officer's dress clothes were quite stunning, even as much so as his footwork.
Ah, he could dance as well as he fought. She'd never had such a graceful and gentle partner on the dance floor before.
Ishtar looked over at the dancers in all their grace, and noticed a familiar face among them.
"Ah, look at that. Olwen found herself a partner at last," Ishtar said.
"Hmm? Yes. I must meet him later on," Reinhardt said.
Ishtar smiled indulgently. "Now, Reinhardt. Don't be too hard upon him."
"He could be my future brother-in-law. I should wish to get a good look at him and be properly introduced," Reinhardt said.
"So you can interrogate him?" she teased.
"Hopefully, such drastic matters would not be necessary. I would hope my sister would choose someone well suited for her."
"It's just a dance, Reinhardt. It could be nothing but a dance between friends."
She almost said like us, but stopped. For it did not quite feel right. Her relationship was quite complex with Reinhardt. He was her protector, her most trusted, her confidant. She relied him in so many ways. Every single day she sought him out for comfort, council, companionship and more.
And it had left Julius in jealous fits, and growing violence and fury, until he wished to kill Reinhardt in the most violent ways possible.
Well, that was past. Just the thought of how Julius's descent left her with a deep sadness.
She was still dealing with the guilt that she had left him even as she loved him, that she had chosen herself, her morals, and saving the innocent children over him.
When he did the unthinkable, the vile, the horrific, she could no longer be his beloved and join him in such vile crimes. She took a path her own to save those that her former lover had kidnapped to sacrifice to the flames of Loptous.
Reinhardt had comforted and supported her all through this pain as she left the man she loved when she could not take any longer the atrocities he committed. He helped her at every point, both in Jugdral and Askr.
She thought she would never love again, after the pain of leaving Julius. As if her heart were irrevocably broken from so much loss in such a short time.
Yet, here she was. Dancing, light and joyous. How time mended wounds.
"I do worry for her, though. Should anyone try and harm her..." He trailed off, but there was a dark look in his eyes. He did not have to finish those words. Reinhardt was filled with untold power, and the force of a storm. Should anyone hurt Olwen, or Ishtar herself, the would be struck down with the force of lightning in an instant.
She patted his hand. "Yes, I am sure she knows that as well. That you would never let anyone hurt her. But, you can't protect her from everything."
"You're right. She's grown now. I'm still adjusting to that my baby sister is an adult and soon may marry. I know I must let her fight her own battles, and am gladdened she found a suitable partner to dance with, but I would not stand idly by if she fell in love with someone who would be cruel to her."
"Of course. I think she knows that too. That even as you wish her to grow stronger, you also would not idly stand by if someone wished to hurt her."
"But, I think you forget too that Olwen has a temper. She would not abide by someone who mistreated her. Why, I pity anyone who would try and face her."
He smiled. "Yes, you are right. I should trust her judgment--and ability with a tome--more."
"I think I've rested enough. Are you up to another dance?" Ishtar said.
"For you, I'd gladly take to the dance floor all night," Reinhardt said.
"Until our feet hurt?"
"And beyond," he said.
She took his hand again, and she felt that feeling of almost dizzying lightness she'd almost forgotten. What a relief to have her hand enclosed in his again, his arm about her, steadying her as they waltzed together. One that she'd hadn't known for a long time, that she thought gone from her life.
Not since Julius and her had parted ways.
She did not name it in this moment, even as she knew. She simply lost herself in the footwork and the dance, and in Reinhardt's warm arms.
*
Olwen had never laughed harder. Fred's hand lingered at her back as they left the dance floor.
"Oh, my old dance teacher would be ashamed of me. I almost feel I must apologize for such a showing. I truly am rusty."
"No need. I barely even even felt your feet," Fred said.
"I did so five times, or more," Olwen said.
"Still," he said.
Ah, there was Reinhardt again. His dancing steps were peerless as ever. She had a lot to catch up to.
"There's my brother," she said proudly.
Princess Ishtar was in his arms for another dance, and she had such a soft look upon her face.
"I've heard of him. He's an imposing figure," Fred said gravely.
"Oh, he's very kind. Why, are you worried?"
"I am dancing with the little sister of a man who could strike me down effortlessly," Fred said dryly. "I have much to worry for."
"He wouldn't. Not unless you were a bad person. And you're not. You're the most steadfast person I know."
"Is that another way of saying boring?" Fred said.
"No! You're kind, and even when I lose my temper, you calm me down. I couldn't ask for a better second-in-command," Olwen said.
She took his hand in hers.
"Are you tired for another dance? I need to practice," she said.
"Is that the only reason?"
Olwen blushed. "W-What?"
She pushed her short and dark hair behind her ears.
"Not entirely...you're fun," she said.
"I guess I'm not so boring, then?"
"No, not at all. I'm always glad when you're there with me. Now, Apologies in advance if I step on your feet," Olwen said.
"I'll forgive you," Fred said.
*
Even as the night went on, the dancers kept dancing. It was as if the clock stopped, caught in this beautiful moment. Even if the future might end in flames back in their world, they had this night.
