Work Text:
“Huh? Do you know how to dance, Mr. Flins?”
Illuga stares silently at his visitor with a look that is both curious and incredulous. The two remain in complete silence, gazing at each other, forgetting that just a moment ago they had started a new round of a friendly card game. They also forget that just a moment ago, the conversation had been on another topic—stories about the Lampareros that Flins so enjoys sharing with him—and the story had been quite interesting from the young captain’s perspective. So Illuga feels even more confused by Flins’ sudden revelation. There’s no reason whatsoever to abruptly change the conversation to an unrelated topic, much less to something of no apparent importance.
To lighten the tense, silent atmosphere a bit, the ratnik soldier lets out a soft chuckle.
“Oh my, you don’t seem convinced by my words, Young Master,” says Flins, turning his cards face down on the small table.
“Well… it’s strange that you mention something like that so suddenly,” says Illuga, hesitantly. His gaze wanders for a moment, but his eyes soon return to Flins. “Weren’t we talking about something else just a little while ago?”
“Certainly, Young Master. Always so attentive to those details, as one would expect,” Flins flatters as usual, raising one hand to his chest—an action that earns him a sarcastic glance from Illuga. “However, I thought it would be a good idea to reveal something to you that very few people know about me.”
“It’s not common for you to reveal things about yourself—not in this way,” the young captain admits, with an inquisitive look, resting a hand on his chin. “Is there really no particular reason?”
“Well, actually, there is,” and with that, the ratnik rises from his seat, leaving the cards on the table. He walks slowly until he stands in front of Illuga. “I think it’s a good idea for you to know how to dance, Young Master.”
Illuga becomes even more confused, blinking several times. He seriously considers in what context it might be useful for him to know how to dance, but the only images that come to mind are familiar ones—night patrols, long expeditions to the Kipumaki Cliff, and battles against the Wild Hunt. Of course, when he was a child, he vaguely remembers seeing some Ratnik soldiers dance at banquets, but a part of his mind tells him that’s not the kind of dance Flins says he knows how to do. After several minutes of silence, he shakes his head as soft chuckles escape his chest.
“Do you really believe that?” Illuga asks Flins.
“Of course I do. I think it’s only fitting that someone like you should know,” the ratnik replies with a polite smile.
“I don’t know, Mr. Flins, I don’t think that…”
“How about I teach you a little?”
“Huh? What?” The cards in his hands almost fall to the ground, but Illuga manages to react in time. Seeing that Flins is serious and noticing the hand he’s politely offering, Illuga lets out a few nervous laughs as he feels his face begin to burn. His nervous laughter dies down as the seconds pass, making the situation somewhat uncomfortable. “D-does it have to be right now, Mr. Flins?”
“Of course.”
“But I’ve never danced before,” Illuga admits, scratching the back of his neck and looking away slightly, feeling embarrassed.
“There’s a first time for everything, Young Master. Don’t worry—no one here is going to judge you, not even me.”
Faced with Flins’s quiet persistence, Illuga finally agrees. He rises from his seat to stand in front of his guest, taking his hand with a certain nervousness.
“All right. Now, if you’ll allow me…”
Illuga gives a sharp gasp when he feels Flins’s free hand gently grasp his waist. He decides not to say a word, remaining silent and obeying whatever Flins tells him just to learn those darn dance steps. He also clears his mind of the thoughts crossing his mind at that moment—especially those emphasizing how close Flins is to him and the way he’s holding his waist. Then, Flins instructs him to place his free hand on Flins’s shoulder.
“Now, Young Master, you must follow the rhythm of my feet,” Flins tells him. “Imagine that the music is playing in your head and that it’s a piece in three-four time.”
“All right, I’ll do my best,” Illuga replies, still nervous and now looking down at the floor. Deep down, he isn’t quite sure how to picture a song like that because he’s never heard one in his life.
Although he’s focused and his eyes are fixed on his feet to follow Flins’s steps, Illuga can’t help but let out a small scream of surprise when Flins begins the practice. As expected, Illuga has a hard time keeping up with the steps. He’s surprised by how elegant and fluid Flins’s dancing is: in fact, he moves quite well for such a small space as his house, and he dances much better than Illuga had initially imagined. In contrast, Illuga, on the other hand, can’t seem to figure out the sequence of movements, even though he sees that they’re quite simple. He follows the steps clumsily and uncoordinatedly. The back-and-forth continues for a few seconds that feel like an eternity to Illuga, as he tries to avoid stepping on Flins’ feet while also making sure not to fall to the floor or bump into the table.
“Young Master Illuga,” Flins says gently, without stopping the dance, “I know you’re doing your very best to learn, but I think you need to relax to move more freely.”
Illuga doesn’t answer; he just furrows his brow, completely focused. Suddenly, Flins spins him around and catches him off guard again. He bumps slightly against the table, and in the process, a few cards fall to the floor—though it’s Flins who tries to break the fall. As a result, Illuga clings to him even tighter. Both of them stop the rehearsal abruptly after the little accident.
“Are you okay?” Flins asks, his voice tinged with concern.
“You’re the one I should be asking that of,” Illuga replies, quite embarrassed, quickly looking up to meet Flins’s citrine gaze focused on him. “Are you okay, Mr. Flins? I didn’t think you were going to turn so suddenly—I…”
A soft, calm chuckle interrupts the flow of his flustered apologies. Illuga feels so embarrassed by his terrible performance in the dance that his face flushes red again.
“Don’t worry, Young Master, it was just a minor bump against the table—nothing serious,” Flins says, trying to reassure him. “We can leave it at that, if you’d prefer.”
“No, I’d like to keep trying. I think I’ve got the hang of it now” for some reason, Illuga feels that Flins’s grip on her waist has become firmer and more noticeable. “Um, Mr. Flins? Does the grip really need to be any firmer?”
“Oh my, I thought you’d feel safer this way, since you’re clinging so tightly to my arm.”
“Oh.”
Illuga feels his cheeks are now flushed even more than before.
“Don’t worry, Young Master. It doesn’t bother me at all. If it makes you feel secure and helps you avoid tripping and falling, that’s fine with me.”
“All right, Mr. Flins. We can start from the beginning.”
“Very well, then.”
This time, the start of the dance goes a little better. Although Illuga still struggles to keep up with the steps, this time he tries not to be too tense. A half-turn they perform in the middle of the dance throws Illuga off a bit, making it hard for him to follow the steps, which causes him to bump gently into Flins and, without meaning to, step on his boots repeatedly in a desperate and nervous attempt to regain his coordination.
“Ah! I-I’m so sorry, Mr. Flins,” Illuga apologizes profusely. “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t want to…”
Flins’ soft, carefree laughter somehow helps Illuga feel less nervous about his clumsiness while dancing. It even makes him laugh a little too. Despite that minor new mistake, they don’t stop their dance practice.
“Don’t worry, Young Master,” the ratnik reassures him calmly. “These kinds of mistakes are perfectly normal when you’re learning to dance. Believe me, these mistakes happen more often than you think.”
Despite how embarrassed he still feels about not being able to follow the steps properly, Illuga is comforted by the words Flins has spoken to him. Mistakes crop up again during practice, but this time Illuga doesn’t feel the need to apologize right away and even finds the funny side of his mistakes, managing to laugh at his own clumsiness. Dancing, which at first seemed like a very difficult challenge due to his inexperience, has now become a much more enjoyable practice. Even though he still doesn’t fully understand the dance steps, he keeps bumping into things and into Flins and continues to get tangled up in his own feet. Flins, seeing that Illuga has regained the confidence he’s always had, gets a little encouraged and picks up the pace of the dance slightly, joining in the shy giggles that burst from the young captain’s chest.
The dance ends when Flins, unexpectedly, pulls Illuga toward him, spins him around a bit, and leans in slightly. Surprised, Illuga is left breathless, his heart pounding hard against his chest. His face flushes as he realizes that Flins is slowly closing the distance between their faces. He doesn’t have time to react when suddenly a yellow, bird-shaped flash comes between them and begins to chirp incessantly, pecking mercilessly at Flins’s head—though Flins doesn’t react at all.
“W-wait, Aedon! Don’t do that!” Illuga calls out, nervously trying to grab the bird to stop it from hurting Flins.
The situation calms down when Flins manages to take Aedon in his hands, even though he gets pecked several times in the process. He hands Aedon back to Illuga, after exchanging furtive and somewhat threatening glances with the little creature.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Flins, I didn’t think Aedon would come out of nowhere,” Illuga apologizes, somewhat embarrassed, letting the little bird perch on his shoulder so it can calm down.
“He’s a rather intelligent and cunning little bird, without a doubt,” Flins remarks politely. “I think we can call it a day for our dance practice, Young Master. It’s time for me to head back to the Cemetery.”
“Oh, really?” Illuga says with a slight note of disappointment in his voice. He accompanies his guest to the doorway of his house, feeling that there’s something else he wants to say, but he doesn’t know how. When he sees Flins wave goodbye and walk away slowly, that’s when he gathers enough courage. “Mr. Flins, wait!”
“Is something wrong, Young Master?” Flins turns slightly to look.
“Can we practice again some other time?” Illuga asks, hesitantly. “I mean… I think you’re right that I need to learn how to dance.”
That’s when a mocking smile crosses Flins’s face, which he manages to hide thanks to his dark coat. He brings a hand to his chest, near his heart, and leans slightly toward Illuga.
“For you, Young Master Illuga, how could I possibly refuse?”