Chapter Text
The music winds down, applause from the audience overtaking it. Galen holds his final pose for the practiced five seconds, enough time for the photographers and cameras to capture his image. He turns and bows to the judges and waves to the audience as he skates over to the gate, but he cannot bring himself to smile.
He can imagine what the commentators on air are saying about his performance.
"A technically sound routine, but lacking in spirit."
"Mr. Zankyri somehow manages to be the least interesting figure skater to watch."
Acorn is waiting for him outside the rink, towel at the ready. He accepts it with a nod, and they walk over to the benches to await his score. She doesn't say anything to him as they stare at the screens in front of them, and he doesn't need her to. They both know he had a lackluster performance.
"Galen Zankyri, representing Astomos," the voice of the announcer rings out in the arena, "with a final score of 95.2."
He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose, trying to slow his still racing heart. Not even in the top three. "Maybe I should just give up," he mumbles, uncaring if the cameras pick up the movement of his lips for all the viewers to see.
Acorn is silent for a long moment, and Galen thinks she might actually be agreeing with him. It's the least he deserves.
But she speaks. "I have an idea. You're not going to like it."
"What do I have left to lose?" He chuckles, throwing his head back, and stares at the bright lights of the auditorium. "Whatever it is, I'll do it."
"In that case, there's someone I'd like you to meet."
A week later, Galen is regretting his decision.
"Why did I let you convince me to do this?"
Acorn snorts at him. "I didn't convince you to do shit. You decided this."
She's right, but he's weary all the same. Pairs figure skating? Really? When he can't even perform well enough by himself, how will adding another person into the mix make that better?
"And this other mystery person, they've already agreed to the idea?" He asks instead.
She nods as they walk up the steps of the Eclipse Ice Rink. "She's done pairs before, unlike you. But it's been a few years, so she's out of practice and will have to relearn a lot of the basics."
He frowns at that. Galen's been skating for years now, like most professionals. The community is not that large, and if Acorn knows this person, then he's probably heard of her. "Did you coach her too? Who was her previous partner?"
"I did," Acorn answers, ducking under Galen's arm when he holds the front door open for her. The blast of cool air hits him upon entering the building, a chill that his bones have long since become familiar with. He glances at the gnome woman after she doesn't offer up an answer to his second question.
"You know, all this tight-lipped business doesn't make me feel any better about the arrangement. What's the big deal?"
"It's not really my business to tell, kid," Acorn looks back at him, her face weary and tired. "It's... complicated. You're better off talking to her about it." She juts her chin to the rink that opens up at the end of the hallway.
There's music playing from the speakers in the rink, some kind of upbeat, pop rendition of a violin accompaniment. He can hear the scrape of blades across the ice, and continues down the hallway in order to get a look at this mystery woman, who is supposed to be his partner now.
He makes it to the deck of the rink right as she skates past. She glides over the ice with ease that only those who've spent hours upon hours on it can wield. She twists and turns her body with nary a slip or loss of balance, and when she jumps and spins in the air it looks natural, like a bird taking flight.
She's good, Galen thinks, his eyes tracking her every movement on the rink. Very good.
Her style is energetic and free form. The routine she's doing is probably one she learned from Acorn. He can spot his coach's style in the subtle but poignant maneuvers. But this woman deviates from the script, adding in flourishes and theatricality that Acorn would never suggest herself. It's bold, it's different, and it's unlike anything Galen ever does.
He's itching to get on the ice and join her.
Acorn seemed to have picked up on his desire or expected this exact scenario, because she's already walking up to him with his skates in hand.
"What are you waiting for?"
He grins and takes his skates, setting down his duffle bag and toeing his shoes off. He laces up quickly and approaches the gate to the rink, waiting for an opportunity to enter. The woman hasn't given any indication she's noticed their presence yet, and that, at least, Galen can understand. When you're on the ice, everything else fades away.
She's making another loop around, and as she coasts up to the side they're standing at, Galen skates out onto the ice. He lets her move past him as he warms up, but he trails after her. He matches her speed, staying a few feet behind her. At first, he tries to copy her movement but soon realizes that will not work at all. She's smaller than him and her body moves differently. But Galen knows how he best feels on the ice, so he instead tries to complement her movements.
When she raises her hands up and twirls, he spreads his wide, bracing his weight in his legs, and imagines grabbing her by the waist and lifting her above him. She holds her right leg out at a 90-degree angle and spins, and he spins alongside her. They're not quite in sync—he doesn't know the routine after all and has to wait and see what she does next—but he matches her rotation fairly well. She lowers into a crouch, swinging her leg out in front of her and tucks her head in, spinning faster and faster, like a top set winding. Galen copies this too, and when they rise once more and plant both feet on the ice, coming to a stop, she is facing him.
He blinks in surprise. It's not only her free form that is unpredictable, it seems. They size each other up, not saying anything. The music still blaring overhead is the only sound besides their quickened breaths. She's slightly taller than is average for female skaters, but has the typical slender yet toned physique. Her hair is tied up into two buns, which seems like an odd choice given the maturity he can see in her face, but considering the way she moved on the ice, it's in line with her style. She's human, with tan skin and dark hair, and even darker eyes that shine with curiosity and excitement as they rove over him.
He resists the urge to fidget and run his hands through his hair that is no doubt flailing about in equal excitement while he waits for her to say something. She doesn't look disappointed or upset or grossed out by his presence—gods, he's nervous. He cares a lot about what she thinks of him.
Finally, the woman nods and sets her hands on her hips, meeting his eyes with a smile. "I suppose you're my new partner, then?" Her voice is somehow just as bright as her eyes, and the longer he's in her presence the more she starts to make sense. Like there was never a mystery at all, but rather an old photo that had been forgotten is now recovered, and once you blow the dust off all becomes clear.
His lips twitch up in a tentative smile. "I am. I hope that's alright."
Her head tilts to the side, and she smirks at him. "Well, that depends."
"Depends on what?"
"How well you can do a lift."
Galen chuckles and glances down at their skates. Hers are tie-dye of yellow, green, and purple. "I've never done one before, but I know the theory behind it."
"Lucky for you, I've done it plenty of times before. I can lead you through it."
He inhales sharply and looks up at her. "You want to try that out, right off the bat?"
"Only one way to find out, right?" She shakes her head. "Are you comfortable with that?"
He's dying to try, actually. All the previous hesitation he felt towards the arrangement vanished when he saw her skating. He's excited to be on the ice and trying something new. He didn't realize how long it'd been since he felt that way until he had it again.
"Yeah," he says, nodding his head as he meets those shining eyes. "Let's give it a shot."
She smiles, and it lights up her whole face. She holds a hand out to him. "Right, follow my lead."
He takes it. They start skating, her going backwards, pulling Galen along after her. "We'll do a basic front lift, okay? You're going to lift me from my waist. I need to center myself from my abdomen, and you from your legs. Simple enough!"
Somehow, Galen doubts it's that simple, but he also wants to see just how difficult it could be. He smiles, the anticipation setting his skin tingling. "I think I can do that."
"Here we go! On my count," she winks at him. "Three, two, one!"
He pulls her toward him, and she's ready to meet him, guiding his hand to her waist. His other hand comes up to brace her on both sides. They meet each other's eyes. She gives him a quick nod. Her legs tense and push as she jumps, and he uses momentum to help lift her into the air. He can feel her torso tighten as she finds balance, her legs straightening out behind her and her arms spread to either side. She's heavy, because despite her slim build she is full of lean muscle, and having to support the weight of another person is not something Galen has had to do on the ice before. But he's quick on his feet and has had to course correct his own moves countless times. He's able to adjust his stance and shift his own weight as his arms stabilize and hold her above him.
He's doing it. They're doing it. His eyes have stayed trained on her throughout the whole procedure, so he sees the complete transformation of her face from an excited smile to eyes closed in something like peace as she glides through the air. After one, two seconds, her eyes open again, finding his immediately.
Galen is no stranger to the flow state—when people performing an activity become so immersed in the focus and enjoyment of it that everything else fades away. This, however, is different. When she smiles down at him, he feels something like possibility. Suspended in this moment, visions of their future performances flash through his mind—what they could do, what they could be. What they could accomplish together.
His answering smile is wide, more of a laugh. He starts to carefully lower her. She sets her hands on his shoulders to brace herself. The blades of her skates touch the ice, and she's able to fall into his glide without issue. His hands are still on her waist, and her arms are still wrapped around his shoulders. They come to a stop in the middle of the rink, chests heaving from the exhiliration. His cheeks are starting to ache from all the smiling he's been doing in the last few minutes.
"That was," he starts.
"Brilliant!" she finishes, biting her lip and wiggling in joy.
The sound of clapping comes from the side of the rink. They both jolt in surprise and turn to see Acorn with a rare smile of her own directed at them. He'd completely forgotten about his coach.
"Well done, Birdie, Galen," she says, crossing her arms. "That was a good start, but you two got a long way to go if you want to win a championship."
The woman—Birdie, he turns her name over in his mind, how appropriate—looks back at him. "Nice to meet you, Galen."
His hand twitches at her waist, and he gives it a gentle squeeze. "Nice to meet you too, Birdie."