Chapter Text
The two sat back at their usual spot in the royal gardens. It was a pleasant late summer day, making it a perfect day for a walk. Blues had been permitted to start moving around again, and the doctor mentioned how some fresh air would help him recover. Blues asked Bass to come with him, saying something about discussing wedding plans.
“It’s almost sad to think soon I’ll never see these gardens again,” Blues thought aloud. “They’re the only part of this place I enjoy...” he added quietly. Bass looked up from the patterns he was tracing in the dirt.
“I suppose,” he said. “But there’s always more gardens out there…” Blues laughed a little.
“I guess that’s a rather simple way of putting it,” he smirked. Bass glares at him, feeling the embarrassment on his cheeks.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Blues shrugged, looking back at the flowers.
“Nothing,” he simply said. Bass huffed, turning away. The prince seemed to be getting on his nerves more and more lately. Whenever they spoke he always left with a blush on his face. Some nights he could hardly sleep without thinking over their entire conversations from earlier. And some time during meals he caught the prince staring at him. Though they still never exchanged words at the table.
“There’s going to be a party tonight,” Blues said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“A what-?” Bass asked. During his entire stay at the castle, there’d never even been so much as a soirée, let alone a party. Not even to welcome him. He felt almost offended.
“Have you never been to a party?” Blues raised an eyebrow at him. Bass groaned.
“A couple,” he muttered. “We didn’t have many back home.” Blues sighed.
“Well consider yourself lucky. They’re rather boring actually. At least there’s food…” he said. “It’s in order to celebrate our engagement. The wedding is in only a few months.”
“Well that’s just splendid,” Bass said. Blues looked a little guilty, playing with the hem of his cloak.
“Sorry for pushing back our plans,” he mumbled. “I should have warned you before...about my illness…” Bass blinked, quickly shaking his head.
“It’s alright,” he said. “As long as we’re gone before the wedding, I don’t care when we leave.” Blues offered him a small smile.
“Thanks, I suppose...” he looked away, blushing slightly. “Do you know how to dance? They’ll be expecting us to tonight. I don’t want you stepping on my feet.” Bass ran a hand through his hair.
“Um, not exactly,” he muttered. Blues sighed, shaking his head.
“That’s ok,” he said. “Just let me take the lead then. It’ll be easy.” Bass groaned. Blues was much shorter than him, it would look silly if he were to be leading the dance.
Wounded pride aside, part of Bass was excited about getting to dance with him.
“No, I’ll figure it out. It’s just dancing, how hard can it be?” He shrugged. Blues laughed.
“Well, if you’re sure,” he smirked. Blues stood up, dusting the dirt off his tunic. “Come on,” he said. “My father will want us to start getting ready.”
Bass was glad Blues had warned him about that evening’s events, for the moment he returned to his chambers, he was hounded by servants. They all chattered aimlessly, going through his clothes to find something suitable for the night. Others brought in flashy jewelry, or perfumes, asking him his thoughts on each item. Bass hated this sort of thing. He wondered if Blues was dealing with the same thing right now.
He was forced into a bath that smelled like sweet rose petals, and scrubbed until his skin couldn’t hide a trace of dirt. It took all the self control he could muster not to attack any of the attendants.
One of them tried to do something to fix his hair, but all they could do was pull it back into a tight ponytail. Another offered to weave some gold threads into it, but the glare he gave them made them reactant the offer.
He looked at the clothes a servant had laid out for him.
A deep violet tunic, with hardly visible patterns of flowers woven into the fabric. The sleeves and hems of the thing had gold woven into it. He carefully traced over the patterns of it. He wondered what Blues would think if he saw him wearing it.
“This isn’t one of mine,” he finally spoke. One of the attendants spoke up.
“It had been made for you. At the king’s request,” they said. Bass sighed. He of course didn’t have any particularly nice clothes to bring, but he wished the old man would just mind his own business. He looked back at the garment.
“Very well,” he muttered, and let himself be dressed.
One of the attendants spritzed him with a perfume that smelled like lavender, and another decorated him with jewelry. A small gold necklace, as well as a ring, both fitted with an onyx stone. Bass looked down at himself once it was all finished. He felt gaudy.
“You’re expected in the ballroom shortly,” a servant spoke. Bass sighed, still not sure what to do about the dance.
“Very well,” he said, leaving his chambers.
As he walked into the ballroom, Bass couldn’t help feeling several eyes on him. He tugged at the hem of his shirt, pushing his embarrassment aside. He instead forced himself to look at the decorations.
The room itself was adorned in tapestries, depicting the insignias of both kingdoms. There were arrangements of flowers so big, he would have assumed they just ripped up a bush from the royal gardens. The candles cast a faint glow throughout the room. Bass’ eyes wandered towards the refreshments table, part of him hoping to find Blues there.
“Ah, our guest of honor has finally arrived,” came a voice. Bass jumped in surprise to find none other than the king himself there. Bass swallowed, quickly offering a stiff bow.
“Of course, thank you for such a fine party, your majesty,” he choked out. He heard a small chuckle.
“It’s nothing,” Light said. He glanced around the room, a frown on his face. He sighed. “Late as always,” he muttered. Bass didn’t miss the disappointment in his voice. The king quickly smiled again. “Why don’t you take a seat? The guests will be arriving shortly.” Bass noticed the thrones at the end of the room, above a set of stairs, overlooking the dance floor. He assumed the other was for Blues.
“Will you not be attending?” He asked cautiously. Light shook his head.
“I’ll be keeping an eye on things from afar. This is mostly about you and Blues after all,” he said. The king then noticed the setting sun through the large windows. “Oh, it’s almost time. Please sit.”
With that, he walked away. Bass sighed, sauntering over to his place as servants announced the arrival of the first guests.
Throughout the night, Bass was forced to watch Dukes and Duchesses, and whichever other royals invited, dance and have fun. Blues still had yet to show up, and Bass tried to keep a professional appearance, but found himself sinking further into his seat the more bored he became. He wondered if Blues would even show up at all. Maybe he didn’t want to dance that badly.
Bass was beginning to consider abandoning his post, and going to the refreshments table. He’d been eyeing those chocolate eclairs all night.
As he weighed his options, the door opened and Bass abruptly sat up at the announcement of the arrival. It was none other than Blues. His eyes wandered over to his fiance, and he couldn’t help feeling like his breath was caught in his chest.
As the prince walked closer, the ballroom dancers parted, and Bass could see more and more of him. Blues wore a deep crimson tunic, his normal cloak replaced with one that seemed to resemble a bride’s veil. It trailed behind him, sparkling like gold as he walked. The collar of his shirt was cut deeper than his normal shirts, and around his neck was a gold chain, strung with rubies. His hair was tucked back in a small braid. He looked beautiful.
Blues took his place in the seat next to him, and Bass quickly collected himself. “You look lovely,” he muttered. Blues looked surprised for a moment, before smiling a bit.
“You as well,” he whispered. The guests had resumed dancing. Now it was just the two of them.
“You’re late,” Bass said, trying not to sound upset by the fact. Blues simply offered an apologetic look.
“My apologies, I didn’t think my father would leave you here like this the whole night,” he started. “If I had known you were in need of company, I would have arrived much sooner. The king always hates when I’m fashionably late,” he added. Bass huffed, but couldn’t bring himself to be upset. He supposed it was worth the wait. He stood up.
“Well now that you’re here, let’s get this over with,” he said, offering his hand. Blues stared at it for a moment, a hint of a smile on his lips.
“What a gentleman,” he said, holding back a small laugh. He took the offered hand. Bass realized they hadn’t so much as touched since his arrival. Save for the day he kissed the aforementioned hand, he thought with embarrassment. He pushed down the thought, leading Blues to the ballroom floor.
Much like Blues’ arrival, the guests parted for the both of them. Bass could feel all the surrounding eyes on him, and was suddenly at a loss of what to do. Blues took notice, and leaned up to whisper to him.
“Put your hand on my waist, here,” he spoke, taking his hand and guiding it to settle at his hip. With his other, Blues took his hand, before settling his other around Bass’ neck. Blues smiled. “Well, go ahead,” he said. Bass sighed, looking nervously at their feet before moving in a way he recalled the other dancers doing.
Blues didn’t comment on his form, so Bass assumed he was doing something right. He continued, and Blues simply followed suit. Bass was vaguely aware of the music playing, and tried his best to keep time, but felt unsuccessful. He cringed whenever he stepped on Blues’ toes, but Blues only laughed and kept dancing.
In a moment of instinct, Bass picked Blues up, before spinning him around and settling back on the floor, and dipping him low. Blues looked up at him, catching his breath from having danced for so long. Bass found himself doing the same.
There was applause around them, and Bass was vaguely aware of the announcement of how this had concluded that evening’s events. Blues stood up straight, smoothing out his clothes. Bass quickly let go of his waist, looking away. Blues smirked.
“I suppose you can dance,” he said.
“That could have gone worse,” he mused. Blues laughed. Guests pooled out of the room. Blues leaned up closer to him.
“I guess it could have,” he whispered, planting a small kiss on his lips.
Blues quickly left, and Bass was suddenly aware that he was the only one left in the ballroom.