By Nightheart
The steady light beat was kept by the bass violins, or
perhaps it
was
light brass. One two three, one two three, heavy light light,
heavy
light light. The melody was carried by the violins, a central
theme,
then variations upon that theme then with additional
variations
upon the variations rounding back into a repetition of the
theme
with occasional emphasis by cymbals. Sometimes the music would
pause
unexpectedly but always it kept its steady beat.
A
Strauss waltz.
Midii
stood at the center of a private deck in the immense,
sprawling
gardens of Lady Une's estate. Her youngest brother stood
in
front of her dressed in miniature aristocratic finery and looking
none
too happy about it.
"Aww
come on Midii!" He pouted. "I already know how to play a
waltz
, why do I gotta learn how to dance one?"
"Well,
if you see a pretty girl at a ball the Lady will one day ask
you
to attend you should know how to dance with her properly," Midii
said
reasonably, ignoring the face he made. "Besides, girls may seem
icky
to you now but that will likely one day change."
"I
don't wanna dance with girls," he grumbled.
"I
am a girl," Midi pointed out. "Don't you want to dance with me?"
"You're
not a girl!" He protested. "You're Midii!"
"It'll
be fun," Midii said. "Humor me."
"
'Kay," he said resignedly.
She
walked over to the nearby radio that had a music recording of a
Strauss
waltz playing and turned up the volume a little.
"Now,
I know you can already tell the beat and rhythm of the music,"
she
began. "The rest is pretty simple as long as you can keep the
beat
and your own movements going in time. The steps go like this
and
one two three, one two three..."
Midii
lifted the hem of floor-length skirt so that her brother could
watch
her feet as she moved them. He followed along beside her for a
moment.
One to the side, one to the front, to the side and back
again
in a seemingly endless cycle. After he'd gotten the movements
down
she had her cherubic little baby turn to face her as she took
one
hand in hers and placed the other at the side of her waist. The
little
tyke, a boy of about six or seven, looked ridiculously
undersized
when standing up to his older sister who was ten years
older
than him and had reached the height of adulthood. His head
came
just past her waist.
She
counted off the beat and on the count of three bade him move. He
stepped
on her feet of course. Midii smiled and shortened her stride
a
little more and started over again.
He
had slightly better luck that time around, he managed to miss her
foot
on the first step. Midii was leading as she counted off the
notes
and soon his well trained sense of rhythm and beat (the result
of
coming from a musical family) made it so that he wasn't making as
many
mistakes.
Midii
grinned as the song crescendoed into deep merry notes, then
picked
her youngest up, placing him on her hip as she had when he
was
but a baby and a toddler. He latched onto her shoulder she
lengthened
her steps swinging her legs out wide to match the
emphasis
in the music. The golden sunlight shone down on their
smiles
as the spun faster and faster to the music. Their laughter
rang
out above the strings of the waltz, the intensified pace of
Midii's
waltz making them both dizzy. The two of them had always
been
exceptionally close; Midii's and his mother had died a few
short
months after giving birth to the youngest Une boy so Midii had
all
but raised him herself, becoming protective sister, surrogate
mother,
trusted confidante and later primary provider of food,
clothing
and shelter. She tried not to play favorites, but she had a
real
soft spot for the boy she had considered hers from the time he
was
a baby. She was just as much his mother as their own mother had
been
and she would just as soon give him up as she would cut off
her
right arm.
"Excuse
me," a quiet, firm voice came from off to one side at the
entrance
from the house to the patio. Midii looked over to confront
the
bodyguard of the day, Trowa Barton. She paused immediately as
the
music played on, looking at him inquiringly she asked,
"Yes?
Is something the matter?"
"The
Lady requested to speak with your little brother Raul. It's
about
his request to attend band camp I believe," Trowa said, as
blandly
as ever. He wasn't a man given to chatter, but when he did
speak
his words were always pertinent.
They
were both well aware of who the other was and he had seemed to
silently
acknowledge their connection, but sometimes Midii felt like
their
past together, in all of its unpleasantness, was the
proverbial
white elephant in the dining room. Oh, they weren't
enemies...
but Midii sometimes almost wished they were, at least
then
she would know where it was she stood with him. He had never
once
mentioned their unfortunate meeting early in their lives; when
they
had met again quite by happenstance he'd acted as if she'd been
a
stranger and from that moment on Trowa had treated her with
distant
respect, as if she were nothing more than Lady Une's little
stray
niece... but it was always there, an uncomfortable subject
neither
of them wanted to talk about. Midii was hesitant to bring it
up
because she really didn't want to find out that he did indeed
hate
her as he had every right to. As for she herself... her
feelings
for him had remained all but unchanged. She might not have
the
right or the freedom to stay beside him, but even this much
(with
Trowa acting as occasional bodyguard when the manse had
important
guests or hosted the signing of a new treaty) was enough
for
her. She got to be beside him sometimes, quiet and steady, just
as
they had when they'd been children.
Raul
squirmed in her arms to be let down and scampered off to go
hear
the Lady's verdict. Midii was left standing alone on the marble
outdoor
garden patio with waltz music playing, staring after the
retreating
form of her younger brother. So much for dance lessons.
She
turned to regard Trowa with a small look of offense on her face.
"You
sir," she said chidingly. "Have just deprived me of my dance
partner."
He
peered blandly back at her, his face an unreadable mask as
always.
Midii
sighed a little wistfully (she had been having such fun too)
and
moved to step past him to go into the house. She was surprised
when
he reached out and held her by the arm, precisely, with neither
too
much nor too little pressure. He picked up her right hand in his
and
placed his left firmly at her waist.
The
waltz had slowed again, the strings were sweeping and melancholy
and
the brass and percussion had disappeared leaving only the
wistful
song of bow and catgut. He was an elegant dancer, leading
her
in the twirl of steady beats with an almost mathematical
precision.
The
steps weren't fast or trying at all, but Midii suddenly found
herself
short of breath. For some reason, her chest felt tight and
she
felt a little lightheaded... it was probably the result all of
the
twirling around. She couldn't seem to stop looking up into his
face,
half hidden by his hair as it was. She would have given a lot
at
that moment to have enough power over her limbs to drop her gaze
or
look anywhere but into his eyes and hide her face behind her
hair.
His gaze was so piercing and sharp it looked like it could see
directly
into her and read every thought in her mind as if it were
printed
word. To her further dismay her face was heating up. She
couldn't
breathe or think or look away and her face was heating up.
It
wasn't fair, he looked as cool and detached as ever while she
felt
like a marionette in his arms moving exactly where he directed
her
to move.
It
was over to soon. The strains of the waltz ended and the motion
stopped.
He made no move to release her and she simply stood there,
frozen,
in his arms.
"I
can say in all honesty, that you do dance better than my little
brother,"
Midii said with a tone she felt was remarkably even.
"Thank-you,"
he said quietly. He still had her hand captured in his.
"You're
welcome," she replied. He heart was pounding so loudly in
her
chest she was amazed he couldn't hear it. Even after months and
months
of peace on earth and in space her Nanashi still moved with
the
silent grace of a hunting predator, and Midii felt remarkably
like
prey right at that moment. Why wasn't he letting go?
"Thank-you,
for finishing the dance," she said softly.
He
said nothing, as was his way, merely giving her a quiet nod of
acknowledgement.
Then, slowly, slowly he brought the hand still
clasped
in his own upwards to his lips, then kissed the back of it.
"Until
next time," he said quietly then walked away to re-enter the
house.
Midii
leaned limply against a nearby balustrade, her weak watery
knees
giving out from under her.
<Next
time?!> she thought in a small panic. <I barely made it
through
this one!>
The
End.