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rose_in_winterCharacters/Pairings: Delita, Ramza
Rating: G
Contains: Nothing of note
Notes: Written for the August 2010 round ofareyougame
Wordcount: 348
Summary: Ramza teaches Delita some useful skills.
Beta: None
"No, like this." Ramza lets go of Tietra to re-arrange Delita's hands when Alma isn't quite quick enough to do it herself. Delita nods a stiff thanks; dancing, it turns out, is nearly as hard as the intricacies of advanced swordplay.
Once Ramza has arranged Delita to his satisfaction, he returns to partnering Tietra, and humming the tune to which they will dance. Alma is a graceful partner, and moves as though the complex steps of the court dance are as easy as walking down a cobbled street. Tietra frowns in deep concentration, sneaking sideways glances at Alma to check her own movements.
Ramza is as confident as Alma, his feet touching down the patterns as precisely as he does during swordplay drills. He stands upright, the picture of nobility as he guides Tietra through the steps. Some days, it is easy to tell that Ramza is the bastard Beoulve child; other days, like today, he carries his lineage like a trueborn.
Alma pauses, and gently corrects Delita's stance. She is far kinder about it than the instructors at the Academy, and her smile is meant to reassure him that she does not think less of him for his lack of knowledge.
Delita looks at Ramza, who smiles. "You are doing very well," Ramza assures him.
"'Tis complex," Delita says, taking care to mimic Ramza's precise inflection and exacting enunciation.
"But, once mastered, it opens doors your sword cannot," Ramza replies.
Since that is true enough, Delita nods, and pays closer attention to the placement of his feet. With the right skills, he could establish himself enough to provide a safe place for Tietra. No matter how kind Lord Barbaneth has been to him for Ramza's sake, Delita is keenly aware that he and Tietra are subject to the family's whims, and he does not believe that his place will outlast Lord Barbaneth's final breath, for Zalbaag and Dycedarg do not favour their bastard brother.
So he steps, and he learns, and tries not to resent the grace and training that Ramza wears as though it were innate.
Rating: G
Contains: Nothing of note
Notes: Written for the August 2010 round of
areyougameWordcount: 348
Summary: Ramza teaches Delita some useful skills.
Beta: None
"No, like this." Ramza lets go of Tietra to re-arrange Delita's hands when Alma isn't quite quick enough to do it herself. Delita nods a stiff thanks; dancing, it turns out, is nearly as hard as the intricacies of advanced swordplay.
Once Ramza has arranged Delita to his satisfaction, he returns to partnering Tietra, and humming the tune to which they will dance. Alma is a graceful partner, and moves as though the complex steps of the court dance are as easy as walking down a cobbled street. Tietra frowns in deep concentration, sneaking sideways glances at Alma to check her own movements.
Ramza is as confident as Alma, his feet touching down the patterns as precisely as he does during swordplay drills. He stands upright, the picture of nobility as he guides Tietra through the steps. Some days, it is easy to tell that Ramza is the bastard Beoulve child; other days, like today, he carries his lineage like a trueborn.
Alma pauses, and gently corrects Delita's stance. She is far kinder about it than the instructors at the Academy, and her smile is meant to reassure him that she does not think less of him for his lack of knowledge.
Delita looks at Ramza, who smiles. "You are doing very well," Ramza assures him.
"'Tis complex," Delita says, taking care to mimic Ramza's precise inflection and exacting enunciation.
"But, once mastered, it opens doors your sword cannot," Ramza replies.
Since that is true enough, Delita nods, and pays closer attention to the placement of his feet. With the right skills, he could establish himself enough to provide a safe place for Tietra. No matter how kind Lord Barbaneth has been to him for Ramza's sake, Delita is keenly aware that he and Tietra are subject to the family's whims, and he does not believe that his place will outlast Lord Barbaneth's final breath, for Zalbaag and Dycedarg do not favour their bastard brother.
So he steps, and he learns, and tries not to resent the grace and training that Ramza wears as though it were innate.