The Dark Waltz

Title: The Dark Waltz
Series: Original
Category: romance; fantasy
Pairing: Awron/Damius
Warnings: none
Notes: From Awron's POV. Please read artists comments.



So many years had passed since I had even thought about dancing. Many times had I watched as my jubilant cohort would prance merrily about the castle, as if to brighten my often sour mood. It did little more than annoy me most of the time. Tonight was no exception. Damius stood there, his emerald eyes glistening with an eagerness that he so often employed. The gay melody of Kian's fiddle began to slowly gain momentum.

The chamber halls were still, with pleasant notes bouncing merrily off of the dark stone walls. It was a tune I knew too well. The whole of Tanathia was full of folk songs, meant to lift spirits, mourn the dead, or inspire soldiers. Each land has its own songs to sing, but there is no melody that I have not heard. This song, in particular, was one that I had heard so often that it haunted me in my sleep; The Sprite March of Timle. More often than not, it was played in taverns and pubs, to encourage patrons to dance and be joyous. Damius always appreciated hearing it.

His eyes continued to beg, although his mouth did not move. I knew what he wanted and it was always difficult for me to refuse him. Even so, I wasn't typically the dancing kind, at least not to upbeat rhythms, such as this.

In that moment, as if I had projected my sentiments aloud, Kian brought the repetitive tune to an end and began to play a different song, one he knew held specific importance to me. It was a waltz, most commonly referred to as the Waltz of the Alabaster Moon. Damius took my hand and pulled me to my feet. He place my left hand upon his waist and gave me his hand to hold in my right. The playful, yet sorrowful, smile he wore was more than enough to weaken my resolve.

I took the first two step to the right, Damius followed gracefully, despite his small size in comparison to my own. It brought memories flooding back, as we twirled and spun about the chamber, the lazy flames from the torches dancing beside us.

It brought me back to a time very long ago, when I had decided that I would not remain a useless, uneducated rube. I would be a king; no, I would be a God. The God that I was created to be. With an unyielding determination to better myself, I studied. I would linger in throne rooms of Kings and Dictators, just to watch how they carried themselves. What I found most fascinating about them, I was surprised to learn, was not their power. Rather, it was their poise. It was their ability to strike both fear and awe in the hearts of those whose lives they touched. That was what I wanted more than power, granted I wanted it all.

Very soon after my death, I taught myself to waltz. The waltz, as I came to learn, was a timeless and necessary tool to the aristocrat. It is methodical. It is metronomic. It is integral to the very structure of grace.

When first Damius joined me as a deity, he was surprised to find that I was not the simple farm hand he remembered me to be. He was curious to learn all the things I had learned; things that he never could have learned in our pastoral Tarlonian village. He made it clear that he didn't understand the appeal of most of my newer interests, but he never turned down the opportunity to learn about them. Waltzing was one such interest. The Waltz of the Alabaster Moon was the very first song we danced to as Gods.

Now, many thousand years later, we waltz in rhythm to its haunting melody once again. The gaze of adoration upon my dearest love's countenance forced the past from my mind. All I could dwell on was the feeling of his hand in mine; and the way the notes emanating from Kian's fiddle seemed to tear at the most tender portions of my soul, making me feel alive once again.