#i'm also still fog brained so this edit might be absolutely hell

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

OC Kiss Week 20 - Spirited Away

Between wedding planning and teetering on the edge of being sick, I just haven’t had the time that I’d like to dedicate to kiss week. I’m still sitting on a few half-finished pieces, but I did wanna get this one in before the week ended so HERE WE ARE. Featuring @captainsaku‘s Nin, and Tahir, with a hint of a ghost of Alex creeping in there because she can’t be left out of shenanigans.

About 1400 words.

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Sir Merrin had already taken Nin through three dances, and she was beginning to suspect that he was angling for a fourth. 

The first one had been cordial enough. Merrin was a hobbyist vintner, and though he mostly only oversaw the vineyards of his estate, he had a particular interest in the inner workings of the trade, and would speak at length about them at any given opportunity. It was a topic that Nin would have been able to talk all night about, had she been allowed to join the conversation.

“Have you ever been to any of the vineyards further east, Your Highness?” Merrin asked, as the last swell of music began to taper off. Nin glanced around. They had ended their dance in the middle of the crowded floor; all of her polite exits were blocked in. 

“I haven’t,” she said, slowly. This was the first real question she had gotten in two dances. “I imagine that they must be lovely this -”

“Oh, you must! They are lovely this time of year. There is a region there - perhaps further south than east if I’m being precise - and they are all masters, simply masters! They keep their secrets well-guarded, but as a fellow enthusiast, they have encouraged me to take a few samples, so I…”

And on, and on it went, a steady stream of self-congratulations in between stories of people Nin only half-knew, spoken to her general direction as she was whirled and pressed through the mass of the crowd. They were only a minute into the song, but she was already starting to feel dizzy.

He was still on about the eastern vineyards when the dance spun them apart again, and Nin felt a hand suddenly seize her free one. To her left, she heard Merrin stuttered a protest; then a shoulder shoved its way between them and he was gone, whisked away from Nin and deeper into the crowd before she could make sense of just what had seperated them. The hand that had taken hold of hers shifted into a lead.

“Chatty one, ain’t he?” 

Blinking, Nin followed the new voice up, and found herself staring into a wry smile cutting through a recently-trimmed beard. Tahir. She might’ve guessed; the hands under hers were the opposite of nearly every other person in the room, wide and dark and thick as tree bark along the palms.

“What…” she began, and frowned when her voice faltered. Apparently, her time with Sir Merrin had robbed her of the ability to form full sentences. Overhead, Tahir grinned. 

“What am I doing here?” he guessed. “Why, giving you an out, Your Highness. Alex seemed to think that you had a guest overstaying his warm welcome.” He nodded over a shoulder, and Nin peered around his arm to where she could just make out the head of loose brown curls that was leading - pushing? - Sir Merrin further away into the crowd. She stifled an outright giggle, but only barely.

“I was fine,” she said, smiling despite herself. "Sir Merrin is… enthusiastic, yes, but -"

"But he's got the sickness that gives him a love of his own voice. And the charm of a mongrel dog. And you’ve been trying to find an escape for the last two dances.” Nin winced, and Tahir’s grin softened into something closer to a smile. “We knew you’d have eventually figured out a way to get yourself out polite-like, Your Highness, but we figured that we can afford to wound his pride a little. It’s not like we need to play courting games, hey?”

He was right, of course; Alex and her inner circle had been invited out of politeness rather than any need on their part. They had no wheels to spin, no deals to court, no friends to make among the aristocracy. As it was, they had likely only agreed to come for the chance at a decent meal.

“Well, then," Nin said, smiling, “at the very least, I suppose I ought to thank you for my rescue.”

“You ought to do nothing of the sort,” Tahir said, with a theatrically deep bow. Then he glanced sideways to the dance that was still churning on around them, and Nin saw his smile falter. Around them, the other dancers slinking past their awkward side-step were fielding glares steeped in the sort of muted hostility that only came out of the peerage when they were being interrupted. He straightened quickly, clearing his throat.

"You ought to do nothing of the sort,” he said, with an apologetic smile, “but I could, ah, use a lead. Alex is the one who knows his way around the noble art of dancing. I was told I wouldn’t need to."

Nin laughed - genuinely, perhaps for the first time since leaving the company of her guard for the night - and then adjusted her hand to take the lead with a smile. 

"That seems like a fair trade."

For all of his professed shortcomings in dancing, Tahir was remarkably good at taking direction. When she staggered out of the way of his clumsy steps, he steadied her with an apology; when she nudged him out of the way of an oncoming dancer, he went as easily as a pennant in the wind. He still moved with the jerky, stuttering half-step of a novice, but he listened every time she offered a correction, and she never had to do it twice.

And for all the graceless dancing, the conversation was much, much better.

“Wine?” Tahir whispered in disbelief as they swept at half speed around the outside of the dance floor. “All of that time, all of those dances, and he couldn't fathom to talk about anything a sight more interesting than wine?"

“It's not such a terrible subject, really.” Nin slid her arm out around Tahir’s, gracefully deflecting a couple as they nearly plowed into his back. “I like growing things. I tend a garden myself. I would have loved to know more about the vineyards! Or I would have liked to talk about them, at least…"

"Ah," said Tahir, chuckling. "And so we come to the real problem: letting those of us who like to talk take command of the conversation! Well, stay your fears, Your Highness. You won't be subject to old men prattling about wine or dancing much longer now."

Nin opened her mouth to reply, then snapped it shut with a little squeak of alarm as the floor  suddenly vanished from beneath her. The room spun as an arm hooked itself beneath the small of her back, until she looked up and found herself staring, bewildered, at the ceiling that had appeared over Tahir’s shoulder. He grinned down at her, then leaned forward, bending close to her ear.

“Down the corridor behind you,” he said quietly. “Take the last door on your right. I’m told Royal and the others are waiting to spirit you off for the evening, should you need it. And it seems to me that you rather need it.”

He leaned back almost immediately, righting her with a startling ease as the last notes of the song echoed around them. The crowd turned to applaud the band as Nin steadied herself upright, wide-eyed with surprise. 

“How in the world did you -”

“We didn’t,” Tahir cut in. “Royal arranged most of it. But we don’t do rescues by halves, Your Highness. Having to dance with me just makes you the lucky sort.”

He winked, and another laugh - genuine again, and twice as startled - burst out of her. An escape! From her family’s own party, thrown in her stead! The doldrums that had plagued her evening before suddenly seemed thousands of leagues away.

Smothering the worst of her giggling, Nin stepped forward, up onto the very tips of her toes, and dropped a kiss onto Tahir’s cheek.

“Thank you,” she said as she pulled away, grinning so widely that her cheeks hurt. “At the very least, for helping Royal. And do be sure to thank your captain for me, too.”

“Alex is having the time of his life being a contentious little shit,” said Tahir with a roll of his eyes. “He doesn’t need any thanks, I promise you that.”

Somewhere behind them, a wordless sputter of irritation suddenly rose up out of the crowd, sounding suspiciously like it belonged to a very angry vintner. Tahir gestured towards the sound with another long-suffering roll of his eyes and then silently waved her off before turning back towards the crowd. Nin stifled another laugh as she slipped carefully towards the hallway behind her.

In six month’s time, there would be some other party, some important soiree to attend. She would be sure to send them an invitation.