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Caspar was certain his feet were going to fall off by the end of the night.
The ball was going wonderfully, but as much as he hated to admit that he had limits, the dancing was starting to get to him. Dorothea had already snatched him up twice, and there was a peculiar partner exchange where Ashe was handed over to him. It became a spitting match as they bickered over who was going to put their hands where, but Petra swept in at the last moment to save them both. It was all very fun and exciting, even though Caspar was growing tired.
He couldn't call it quits, though. Not until he got his dance with Hilda. Like a man on a mission, Caspar scanned the crowd, all dashing in their dress uniforms, looking for her.
Hilda had taken his heart in hand with her kindness and holistic acceptance of him. He wasn't ready to tell her, regrettably, but a dance was the perfect excuse to get a little closer.
Caspar had seen her earlier, outlined in gold by the lighting, causing his mouth to go dry. The houses hadn't yet integrated, segregated until the ball fell into full swing. By then, he’d lost track of her. Sometimes he thought he caught flashes of bright pink twirling across the dance floor, but then everyone would rotate to the music and Hilda vanished again like a fae in the woods.
Determination drove Caspar's heavy feet through the hall, eyes darting from person to person as he searched. He was starting to get nervous the longer he went without seeing her, so it was with great relief he finally found her idling by the entry.
As he headed towards her, he wondered what approach he should take. Would Hilda appreciate a straightforward request to dance, or would she rather he play up an exaggerated, charming persona to make her giggle behind her hand?
Before he could decide, she turned her head and saw him. With the cat out of the bag, he beamed, opening his mouth to ask—
"Caspar! I need your help with something," Hilda demanded, reaching forward to grab his sleeve and drag him conspiratorially close. "Did you see Claude leave?"
Caspar had not been thinking about Claude all evening, actually. "Uh, no?"
"It wasn't that long ago," she said. "We can probably catch him!"
"...Why?"
Hilda began to pull him outside the dance hall. "Claude left early on the night of the ball, Caspar. He's got to be meeting with someone at the Goddess Tower!"
There was a lot of hubbub about the Goddess Tower. Tittering whispers bounced from wall to wall. They had increased as the ball approached like a constant buzzing against his back. No one had ever filled him in on exactly what was so precious about the tower, so it must not have been that important, but it was annoying to be left in the dark for so long.
“And what does that have to do with anything?” he asked. He definitely, absolutely did not whine.
Hilda rolled her eyes. “Obviously, he’s going to wish for his and his date’s happily ever after!” His stupefied expression made her pause. Eyebrows slowly raising, she asked, “What’s that look for? Did no one tell you?”
“Uh, yeah, of course they did,” he boasted—lied, it was an unambiguous lie.
“So you definitely know that couples wish their lovey dovey little hearts out up there?”
“Yes!” Caspar exclaimed, mind stirring with the new knowledge. Then, it all stopped, as a dreaded thought occurred to him.
The sudden implications for Hilda’s search weren’t lost on Caspar. Her interest in Claude was concerning at best. Was she acting out of scorn by seeking out Claude's secret paramour? As a poisonous claw of jealousy hooked into his ribcage, Caspar found he could relate.
"But why are you stalking Claude?" he asked as he let her pull him into the quiet night.
“Look, Claude has something on everyone,” she explained as she guided them in the direction of the Goddess Tower. She stopped to adjust her hold on him, releasing his sleeve to grab his hand, and Caspar felt like his face was on fire. She continued, “It’s just, like, a teensy, harmless bit of blackmail if I can figure out who he’s seeing. I want to convince him to do garden duty for me just once. I’ve never gotten that man to do anything for me before.”
Was it relief Caspar felt when he heard Hilda wasn’t enamored with Claude? Or was it just the warmth of her hand in his that burned the poison from his blood? Regardless, he felt lighter as he walked with her.
As they neared the Goddess Tower, they saw the flap of a yellow cape disappear inside. Hilda guided them into the shadows to lie in wait.
“I hope they’re not already up there,” she said in a low voice. “Then I’ll have missed my chance!”
“You can still catch them when they leave,” he suggested. “It’s just a matter of, y’know, when.”
She frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t think he’s the type to go up there and make out for hours, so it shouldn’t be that long of a wait.”
Caspar wouldn’t mind going up there and making out for hours.
Hilda had yet to let go of his hand.
“Why do you need my help, anyway?” he asked as he stared at their entwined fingers.
She turned from the Goddess Tower to look at him. She followed his stare and squeezed his hand reassuringly. It was late, the moon high in the sky, but her smile was so bright Caspar could have sworn the sun was rising.
“We’re spying on the Goddess Tower,” Hilda said. “What if someone else comes along? I’ve got to make sure I’ve got a cute face by my side, don’t I?”
Caspar’s heart raced. “O-oh! A cover. Makes sense. Um, what are we wishing for at the tower if anyone asks?”
She tilted her head demurely. “What else? A never ending romance, of course. That’s what every couple comes here for.”
“What about...” he paused. This wasn’t how he’d planned it at all. He didn’t feel confident or suave, but rather like a cowardly mouse. “What about a wish for a dance?”
It was hard to tell in the shadows, but he could have sworn Hilda was blushing.
“A dance?” she squeaked.
He nodded. “We didn’t get around to even saying hi to each other before, let alone dance.” He waved vaguely in the direction they’d come from. “Don’t suppose you saved one last dance for me?”
She froze for half a minute before clearing her throat and relinquishing his hand to quickly brush invisible dust off her clothes.
“Yes, of course! I’d love to dance with you, Caspar,” she accepted, offering her hand back.
Reverently, Caspar took her hand, raising it to his lips to place a gentle kiss to her knuckles. It was no different than any other time he'd had to put on airs for the nobility in Bergliez, but only Hilda made him feel so strong and weak-kneed at the same time that he was in constant danger of freefalling. To kiss the back of her hand was an honor and a privilege.
It was a little scary. It was a lot enticing.
This far from the ball, the music was faint, but the thrumming percussion and melodic strings were still evident enough to dance to. They slid into position with their hands clasped together softly, Hilda’s opposite palm resting on his shoulder. Caspar took the first steps to lead the waltz as they stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight, which glittered off buttons and clasps like metal-forged starlight. The echo of their shoes on the stone path and their shuffling footsteps on loose grit were louder than the music.
"Have you ever thought the waltz is kind of a boring dance?" she asked after a while.
"Can't say I’ve ever thought about it.”
"Hmm…” She slid her hold from his shoulder to his bicep. "Oh, these arms will do just fine. Lift me, Caspar!"
Hilda planted her foot, stopping the waltz in its tracks, and brought both hands to Caspar's shoulders as she pushed off the ground. He scrambled, catching her around the ribs and holding her in the air.
"What are you...doing…?" Caspar floundered, trailing off as he heard a most beautiful sound.
Hilda’s delighted laughter shook her body, her glee radiating through his palms and spreading down through his entire being. When he’d first arrived at Garreg Mach, he’d heard the distant church bells gonging and thought them phenomenal; now he realized they couldn’t begin to compare to the sounds of Hilda’s joy.
“I knew you could hold me up!” she declared happily. The tips of her hair brushed against Caspar’s face; he could smell the floral soap she used.
“You know what else I can do?” he asked, her giddiness infectious. He liked it; it made him brave.
“Wha—oh!” Hilda squealed, high and excited, as he spun them both around. Reflexively, her arms and legs tried to curl inwards to make herself smaller, but she was still laughing.
Caspar spun them both a few more times on the balls of his feet, more like how adults played with children than two students sharing an improvised dance. As his arms began to tire, he carefully lowered her back to the ground, but kept a steadying hand on the small of her back, holding her in place.
“Caspar?” She was looking at him questioningly.
It was a gutsy move, but he did it anyway. Keeping Hilda braced against his palm, Caspar dipped her backwards. She stared up at him, shocked, cheeks tantalizingly red.
“Oh, you little gentleman, is this how you get all the girls?” she asked, her voice shaky.
Caspar didn’t know what girls she was talking about. “Uh, no,” he said. “Not really. Just felt like dippin’ you. That’s a more exciting move than the waltz, right?”
“Oh.” She licked her lips.
He didn’t mean to stare, but he doubted anyone was going to blame him for it.
“Well, well,” someone interrupted. “What’ve we got here?”
No matter what torture he might face, Caspar would never admit that, in that moment, he almost dropped Hilda out of fright.
They turned to look at their impromptu visitor in unison. Claude von Riegan watched them with cat-like amusement. Upsettingly, he was alone.
“No way!” Hilda nearly screamed. “That’s not fair at all!”
She righted herself, smoothing down her clothes; the pout on her face was unequaled.
“What, were you hoping to see something interesting?” Claude asked, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Because I sure did. Very cute, I gotta say.”
“Hello, Claude,” Caspar deadpanned. “I’m here, too.”
“Trust me, I noticed,” he drawled, his tone coy. “Having a good night, Caspar?”
Caspar felt his face heat up.
“As a matter of fact,” Hilda spoke up, “we were having a very good time before you showed up! Now my evening is irrevocably ruined.”
“Flower’s got some thorns. I’m wounded! I’m bleeding out! Everything’s going dark!” Claude exclaimed with a smirk, one hand pressed to his chest.
“Oh, stop it,” Hilda said with a weary sigh, her stern expression softening. “I lose, okay?”
"Hm? Were we playing a game?"
"As if you don't know!" she accused. "It doesn't matter, though. A loss is a loss. I concede."
"So you say." Claude turned evaluating eyes to Caspar, his expression peaceful. "The Goddess Tower should be empty right now. Far be it from me to keep you two away from it a moment longer. I hope your wish comes true."
"Uh, thank...you?" Caspar faltered.
It was strange to be drawn in and out of a conversation like that. The squabbling nature of it made him think he should be offended, but Hilda looked relaxed despite the verbal spat. All the mixed signals left him confused.
Caspar got the feeling Claude preferred it that way.
"Oh, shoo!" Hilda dismissed, waving Claude away. He bent into an unnecessarily extravagant bow before bidding them a final goodnight.
"Hey, sorry about your blackmail," Caspar offered in the silence Claude left behind.
She chuckled. "He's probably gonna say the same thing to me tomorrow morning. What a clown."
He may have been jealous of Claude earlier, just a little, but he didn't want to see their friendship torn asunder. "Is everything gonna be okay between you guys? You're still friends, right?"
She watched him with a calculated expression as she slowly nodded. "You're really something else, Caspar. Don't worry, Mr. Leader Man and I are right as rain."
“Oh, that’s good. I got”—worried—”confused for a minute.”
“Nothing to worry about. I promise,” Hilda assured him with a smile as she held out her hand with her little finger extended.
Caspar hooked his finger with hers. “Good.”
When he went to pull away from the pinky promise, she curled her finger around his tighter. “Wait,” she began. “I want you to know that I did have a good time out here, sneaking around in the dark, just the two of us. I’m glad I got to dance with you, too!”
She pulled him in gently by their interlocked fingers. Leaning in when she deemed him close enough, Hilda pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek.
“Buh?” Caspar, pillar of verbose grace, sputtered.
“Thanks for all this,” she whispered into his ear before pulling away. “Come on, I don’t think the ball is going to last much longer. Let’s go back and enjoy it while we can, okay?”
She began to walk away, grinning over her shoulder when Caspar’s stupid, stunned legs didn’t move to follow. Coming back to his body felt like getting knocked into the dirt on the Training Grounds, but he hastened to join her.
Hilda took his hand again.