The Gifts We Share [A Medieval AU]

Chapter Twenty-Five - Dancing Lesson Number One

Mark opens his eyes, blinking a few times as he takes in his surroundings. Sunlight streams through the window and illuminates his face, the fire in the hearth nearly gone. He sits up slowly and runs his fingers over the couch beneath him, furrowing his brows. Wasn't this a chair when he fell asleep?

He pulls the blanket around his shoulders and stands, ruffling his hair before moving towards the exit. The moment he stands, however, green magic swirls around the couch and reverts it back to its original appearance. He stares at it for a second before rolling his eyes, a smile brightening his face.

He heads down the stairs and in the direction of the king's office. Feeling much more chipper than before, he approaches the door and knocks. Sure enough, Seán's voice sounds from inside.

"Come in."

Mark pushes the door open, grinning at the royal that sits behind his desk. Seán glances up, his eyes twinkling for a moment when he sees Mark.

"Hello," he greets, setting his quill down.

"I must admit, I was confused about how a couch got into that room until your magic reverted it back into a chair," the farmer states, smiling wider when he sees the king's ears turn bright red.

"Ah, right." Seán rubs the back of his neck. "Uh, how was your nap?"

"Good, good. I feel much better. Thank you, your majesty."

"You're welcome."

Mark takes the seat in front of his desk and tightens the blanket around his shoulders, the king's eyes following his actions. After a moment of silence, Seán leans back in his chair.

"You used to always take second priority to everything else, but that seems to have changed." He chuckles lightly. "We see each other every day, don't we?"

"Pretty much," Mark replies. "Does that bother you?"

"Surprisingly not. I quite enjoy the company."

Mark grins. "So do I." He pauses for a moment before leaning forward in his chair. "I want a dancing lesson. Would you be alright with that?"

Seán nods. "Yes. The Autumn Ball is in a month's time, and if we don't start soon, you will definitely make a fool of yourself."

The farmer rolls his eyes and stands, motioning for the king to follow him. The blanket around his shoulders flows out behind him like Seán's cloak as they head back to their little room, where nobody will bother them.

"What dances do you already know?" the royal asks, pushing the chairs back and setting his cloak aside.

"Mostly the traditional ones. I don't know any slow dances or dances that royals do," Mark answers as he gets a fire going in the mantle.

"We can work with that. At the Autumn Ball, there are two dancers for each kingdom that will perform the traditional dances, and those dances are spectated by the royals. After that, we have our dinner, and then the royals have a dance before everyone else joins in. Does that make sense?" Seán asks.

Mark nods. "Should we start with the royals dance?"

The king's ears turn red again, but he nods. "Um, sure, if that is what you want." He lifts his hand, and the green magic that flows from his fingertips becomes the sweet sound of violins and pianos playing in perfect harmony. Mark's mouth falls open as he listens, the music filling his ears and the room.

"Follow my steps," Seán orders, beckoning him over.

The farmer takes a step forward before freezing. "Is it appropriate for two kings to dance?"

The slightest of smiles pulls at the corners of the king's lips. "Of course. Royals of the same gender dance all the time."

Mark nods and approaches the king, taking his hands as instructed. The music swells and Seán takes his first step, the farmer trailing behind by a second. His eyes remain fixed on his feet as he moves, stumbling every once in a while and giggling lightly.

"Mark, don't watch your feet. You will trip less that way," Seán says. "Try it."

The farmer doesn't question and instead lifts his gaze to the king. Sure enough the technique works, and as their eyes lock Mark's heart starts to beat out of his chest. The magic in his veins throbs along with it, and he realizes, with a start, that he barely feels the surge of power when they're together anymore.

The room seems to melt away as his movements grow more fluid, his eyes never straying from Seán's. The music swells and surges as the king leads Mark around the room, taking him through the steps. The farmer finds himself distracted by his proximity to Seán and the royal's hand on his waist, as well as absolutely enthralled by the shimmer in his blue eyes.

Mark barely notices when the music ends and Seán slows to a stop. He stops a second later, slightly winded but overjoyed. Their left hands remained clasped together, lingering for several seconds before falling away.

"That was pretty easy, huh?" Seán asks, his eyes twinkling merrily.

Mark reminds himself to breathe before responding. "Yeah."

The king's smile makes the farmer's heart pound in his throat. "Good. I think, with some practice on the other dances, you'll do wonderfully at the ball."

The thought of more dance lessons brings a massive grin to Mark's face, and all the grief he had felt earlier seems to disappear.