~ a short Julian x reader drabble for @vesuviaweekly's "Tired Dancing" prompt! ~
"Aaand step, step, slide, now cross under - other direction, my dear - yes, under my arm, just like that - and twirl - ACK!"
You jump back, startled when your flying elbow lands square across his ribs. Julian folds with an impressed (and slightly pained) wheeze.
"Very - hah - strong arm you've got there."
"I'm so sorry, Julian, I didn't mean to."
"Please," he straightens with a wink, "hit me harder next time."
You glance at the bags under his eyes in concern. Another look at the clock on the wall tells you it's coming up on 1 AM, and you have an early start tomorrow.
"Still," you pause to yawn, "I really didn't mean to - I think I'm less coordinated when I'm tired. I'm sorry."
"Tired?" He's one to talk, all floppy curls and bloodshot eyes and coffee-induced jitters. "Why would you be - oh gods, is that the time?!" He eyes the clock in alarm and promptly initiates his Sleep-Deprived Self-Loathing Spiral. "How could I - I've been so selfish - I'm so sorry -"
You catch his flailing hands and, with a smile, start to tug his gloves off and lead him towards the bedroom. "Don't be. I like learning your Nevivon dances."
"But -"
You yawn again, stumbling forward into his chest as he sputters.
"If you want to make it up to me, you could come to bed so we have energy to practice more tomorrow on the boat."
"Ahaha - er - that is, I was going to stay up and pack our bags tonight, to save you some worry in the morning."
You groan into his shirt. "Pack in the morning. Sleep now." Another idea makes its way into your half-asleep mind and you glance up at him with a sleepy smirk. "Or do I have to dance you into bed?"
That warm, fond twinkle reappears in his grey eyes, his brows smoothing out as he gazes down at you contentedly. "One more dance before tomorrow, then."
Summary : It seems an unexpected torpor overcomes the court that night...
This was not how you had expected your masquerade night to go.
You were standing in the corner of the ballroom with your cocktail in hand, taking occasional sips of the fruity alcohol. Your gaze wandered over the dancing guests, the various colorful masks and dresses painting the typical picture of a party in Vesuvia. Your hand mindlessly fiddled with the red beetle brooch attached to your outfit, as your mind cleared slightly and you let it be lulled by the orchestra's music. Granted, they weren’t playing your favorite picece, but... It was decent, you supposed.
You adjusted the mask over your nose and took another sip of your drink when a tap on your shoulder caught your attention: it was Quaestor Valdemar. The horse skull mask contrasted uncomfortably with their uniform - they could at least make a little effort for one night, you thought - and concealed their expression. But with the way their shoulders slumped a bit more than usual, you guessed something was different today. Even if you'd been part of the court - and under The Devil’s service - for much shorter than they had, you could tell their demeanor differed from what you usually saw. Your brows subtly pinched in a mix of both curiosity and slight worry, silently inquiring if they were alright.
"I was simply going to ask you if you wanted to dance."
You blinked a few times. What?-
"I beg your pardon?" You asked softly. It was a little unlike them... If not a lot.
"I said: I was simply going to ask you if you wanted to dance."
Your mouth opened and closed a few times. You were far from opposed, just... genuinely surprised. You put your drink aside.
"I mean... If you want to, but- Quaestor are you sure you're alright?"
You replied, taking a few steps towards them and lacing your arm with their own before walking further into the ballroom.
"I simply wanted to do something... Different."
You didn’t miss the slight weariness of their tone, your chest ever so slightly constricting in worry. You took their hand in your own and took a few steps with them along the music.
"That is strange, even for you. Forgive my confusion, I simply... I have never seen or heard you want to dance."
You said. They only hummed softly in response.
"You are right. It isn’t common for me to... dance." They cleared their throat slightly. They were almost abnormally relaxed... "I hope you do not mind."
You shrugged slightly.
"No, no I can’t say I mind I'm simply... worried."
They nodded slightly.
"That is understandable. However you mustn’t worry. I simply... Am a little tired, perhaps."
Their admission took you aback. They were never one to even let others think they were remotely incapacitated by anything, so this... Was new. They swung with you gently as you two continued to dance, but you could tell they were leaning on you slightly, as if to keep themselves upright. The proximity, trust and slight vulnerability they showed - even if unconsciously - made your corrupted heart flutter. You gave a quiet sigh and tried to push the feeling aside, tried to ignore how it gave you a certain sense of purpose, even if it was for a fleeting moment. Your grip onto them subconsciously got a little tighter, and you found yourself wanting to protect them somehow. From what and who you didn’t really know, it’s not like they ever were in any danger anywhere but... The feeling was there, poking at your heart. You eyed the other guests around you as you felt Valdemar progressively lean on you more and more, their weight and body coming in close contact with your own, as if they were-
Your eyes blinked and widened as you realized they were falling asleep. On you. While you two danced.
"Valdemar, y-"
You whispered, with a sense of urgency as you felt them slump against you, head resting on your shoulder. You adjusted your hold on them so they wouldn’t fall to the ground, and tried to find a couch where you two could sit. You walked towards the one in the far corner of the ballroom, and surprisingly enough they stayed awake for a tiny bit longer, just until you sat them down on the couch. You removed their mask so it wouldn’t bother them while they slept and you made sure they had a pillow or two so they could get comfortable.
You looked around the room, slightly anxious. As adorable - no, as... no. You couldn’t think like that about them - as normal as it was to fall asleep, this was still highly unusual behavior for Quaestor Valdemar. The loud acclamations of Vulgora reached your ears from the adjacent room: the dining room. You were reluctant to leave Valdemar alone, very reluctant. So you simply searched for a stray red beetle around the corners, and you did, you took it in your hand and repeatedly tapped its back - gently but enough for it to be bothersome - hoping it’d annoy Vulgora enough so they'd directly come to you. That seemed to be effective enough: it wasn’t long before you heard the angry thumping of their footsteps towards the ballroom and the slurred curses they shouted. You sighed as you realized they were very much drunk. That realization confirmed itself when they reached you, a bottle of mead in their hand, and their cheeks and nose even redder - if possible - than usual. You felt a pang of irritation at their state, and crossed your arms (after letting the beetle free and watching it crawl into the Pontifex’s sleeve) when they pointed an accusatory finger at you.
"Whaz THAT supposed t’be about??"
They asked, upset to having been interrupted in whatever they were doing. You sighed and held back the urge to roll your eyes.
"I am a little bit worried, is all..."
You said, turning to look at Valdemar, who was still sleeping on the couch. Vulgora followed your gaze after taking a gulp out of their bottle
"Aaah, is fine. Is juss... Time for their yearly nap time." They said.
You blinked, confused, and looked back at them.
"Their what?"
"Yearly nap time" They said again. "Theyyy uuuh... ya know, they say they don’ sleeeep, but... das what they SAY. Of course they sleep. Just... Rarely. Onze a year, maybe, and das it." They explained, their words punctuated by a hiccup.
Your eyes widened slightly. So they slept, but only once a year? And this year it happened to be now?
You were about to say something when you let out a little gasp of surprise: cold arms had snuck their way around your waist from behind, and someone's head rested against your shoulder blade as they slumped against your back.
"Valdemar, what are you-!"
You quietly exclaimed, your cheeks flushing a subtle red hue. Pontifex Vulgora snickered and chuckled as they watched you struggle to turn around and confront the doctor, your horns softly clashing with their own as you turned your head. Vulgora gulped down a bit more of their bottle of mead, letting out an almost obnoxiously loud burp as you struggled to wriggle out from Valdemar’s grasp. It was obvious they weren’t exactly thinking about what they were doing, so eventually you just gave up attempting to escape. Instead you turned your attention back to Vulgora, who had a drunken frown on their face.
"Lucky them..." they said sarcastically. You had a feeling the sarcasm wasn’t all that truthful, though. As if they were a tiny bit jealous... You shook your head. Maybe you were reading into it too much. But then again, the alcohol sometimes made people more honest than they would like...
You were about to guide Valdemar back to the couch when Vulgora suddenly spoke up again: "Szay, why can’t I dance with you?" They asked, their words slightly slurred. You were left confused yet again - what was it with the courtiers wanting to dance tonight ? - "Uhm... Let me-" you mumbled, walking Valdemar back to the couch, but just as you turned around to walk back to Vulgora they caught your wrist in a vice like grip and yanked you back towards themselves, making you stumble back in the couch with a little noise of protest. You glared at them from the corner of your eye but when you saw their closed eyes and relaxed features you... Weren’t so mad anymore. You sighed as you sat up a little straighter on the couch, Valdemar lazily resting against your side, one of their arms loosely wrapped around your midsection. You could faintly hear the soft and slow sound of their sleepy breathing...
You looked back at Vulgora, who just huffed. They looked at their empty bottle of mead with a pout and threw it aside, the glass making an uncomfortable clinking noise on the floor. They really reminded you of an angry toddler at the moment... They walked towards your position on the couch, grumbling.
"What could be szo special 'bout you that they cling to you like that??" They mumbled, as they sat near the side of you which wasn’t occupied by Valdemar. They crossed their arms and looked at their feet for a moment. You had a hard time figuring out what was going through their head until they rested said head on your shoulder with a little 'pat' noise.
"Hm... I guess you're soft..." they mumbled drunkenly, scooting a little closer to your side. You had to repress the urge to sigh. Were you really going to spend the rest of the masquerade as a makeshift courtier pillow?? And as if to answer your silent question, soon it was Vulgora's turn to wrap their arms around you.
"Mmh, you're warm too, that helps..." they mumbled as their own eyes closed. You briefly closed your eyes to calm down the annoyance that threatened to rise up your chest, and instead wrapped each of your arms around each courtier’s shoulders. You took a deep breath and for a moment just let the sensation of both their respective bodies against your sides sink in. Valdemar was thin, almost too cold, and Vulgora was plush and almost burning hot. It was a strange contrast... But strangely enough, they balanced each other, unconsciously. You were briefly pulled out of your reverie by the soft snoring of Vulgora. Oh great, they'd fallen asleep as well... You removed their mask so they wouldn’t get too uncomfortable as well and looked back at the ballroom full of guests. Unsurprisingly, quite a few were staring. You gave each of them an annoyed frown, as if what was happening was a perfectly normal occurence.
Minutes passed. Strangely enough, your breath, Valdemar’s and Vulgora's had synced by now. You had to admit, it was relaxing enough... Your body temperatures followed. Valdemar warmed up a little and Vulgora seemingly cooled down - despite being still relatively hot -. Your head leaned back against the couch, your hair tickling your neck as you too decided to remove your masquerade mask. You set it aside with both the others and closed your eyes for a few seconds. You gave a start as something suddenly jumped on your lap, your eyes shooting open and your eyes darting down: there, sprawled onto you, was a brown furball with little wings on its head and thin bird feet. It still had cake crumbs all around its mouth. Your heart slowed down as you sighed again.
"Voltaaa..." you mumbled. At this point you wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the courtiers came along as well. But well, as you watched Volta curl up in a little ball on your lap and start snoozing, you just didn’t have the heart to move or wake her. You gave her head a little scratch before your arm wrapped back around Valdemar’s shoulders. Despite its unprovoked nature, Volta's addition to your little improvised sleeping booth was... nice.
The sound of exaggerated sobbing then reached your ears. You refrained from sighing this time and looked towards the source of the noise. You saw Praetor Vlastomil drag his feet into the ballroom, his eyes wet with tears. You raised a curious - and concerned - eyebrow as you saw him approach and slump down on the (small) part of the couch that was unoccupied by your company. He buried his head in a pillow and let out a long whine.
"The guests... They stepped on Mathilda ...!"
He wailed. It took you a second to put two and two together; Mathilda was one of Vlastomil’s pet worms. Her and the... thousands of others, you supposed. You let out a little sympathetic 'aw' and reached to pet his back in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. As tragic as it probably was for him, the... Image of Vlastomil walking a tiny earthworm with a leash of thread through the ballroom was... humorous. Still, you tried not to chuckle. After a while you had to put your hand back where it originally was because your arm hurt from aving to stretch it to reach the Praetor’s back. You heard his muffled sniffles begin to subside, and eventually Vlastomil sat properly on the couch, ready to fall asleep himself. You took a deep breath, staying attentive for a little while longer, just in case...
... And you spotted Valerius, coming to down at the very far end of the couch. As usual, his arms were crossed, he had a glass of wine in hand and he was a little pouty. His cheeks were flushed a subtle red, as if he was somewhat embarrassed to be sitting there. You gave him a quiet and inquisitive glance, and Valerius huffed.
"I just need something to clear my head. It would be useless to ask you to dance, wouldn’t it?"
You smiled and playfully rolled your eyes.
"Join us. At this point, why not."
You replied, scooting yourself, Vulgora, Valdemar and Volta to the center of the couch while Vlastomil stayed at one end. The Consul hesitated, but eventually he sat down as well on the other end that had been freed for him.
You all sat together quietly, three courtiers already fast asleep. Vlastomil was next to follow, and surprisingly enough, Valerius let himself drift off as well. You looked at them all, adjusted your hold on Valdemar and Vulgora so it was as comfortable as possible, and then, finally, you allowed yourself to relax. A sense of protectiveness washed over you as you felt all the other courtiers fall deeply asleep on the couch. This was probably a once in a millenia occurence, and you couldn’t help but feel that the moment was important. Your brows furrowed slightly defiantly each time your gaze met one of the guests’, who were watching the couch, baffled. They averted their eyes every time you'd look at them, and it stayed this way for the rest of the night. Only when the ballroom cleared of all guests, almost as morning rose, did you allow yourself to relax and drift to sleep with the other courtiers.
Unbeknownst to you, that evening, the scene had inspired one of the guests. And now, in the palace's dining hall, was a new painting...
With that, the "Creative Curses" prompt is officially closed!
The tags are the usual #vesuvia weekly and for this specific prompt, #tired dancing. The masterlist for all works submitted for this prompt will be under the poll for next week :D
Next week's prompt
"Just a little *healthy* competition" (follower submission!)
How I'd Change the Ending
Smoke & Mirrors
I want to see the votes
Voting ended onOct 23, 2024
MASTERLIST
Tired Dancing by @greyspirehollow
One More Dance Before Bed by @iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia
Note: I originally wasn't going to post something for this prompt but then I had a vision of Julian holding a baby and I couldn't let it go. So this is for @vesuviaweekly's prompt 'Tried Dancing'
Sparrow awoke in the early morning before the sun. Rolling over she had thought to find her sleeping husband but found nothing but his pillow. She sat up slowly, listening and heard the sound of movement from the nearby room. Sparrow slipped out of bed quietly and walked down the hallway to the nursery, decorated with scenes of a gentle ocean and ships, including one with a familiar pirate flag. In the dim light of the magical night light, Sparrow could see the shape of her husband, swaying on his feet as he held their son securely to his chest. The little red-haired babe, Misha, was fast asleep as his father sang a sweet lullaby.
Sparrow smiled as she watched the scene, keeping silent as she listened to Julian sing. She didn’t fully understand the words, but she could feel that they were gentle and loving towards the sweet little boy in his arms. From the day he was born Julian had been smitten by their child though Sparrow couldn’t blame him as she was as well. It took a long moment before Julian noticed her standing there, a soft smile on her face.
“I’m sorry love did I wake you?”
Sparrow shook her head. “No, I think I was just sensing the need to be around my two favorite boys.” she answered, placing a hand gently on one of Julian’s arms as she placed a gentle kiss on their baby’s head. “Have you both been awake long?”
“No,” Julian said, stormy eyes sparkling. “I heard him fussing and thought I would give you a break. He seems to enjoy it when I walk with him.”
“It’s true,” Sparrow said, smiling up to Julian, “he does love his papa.”
“And his mama, who is truly a wonder herself. Honestly a goddess amongst women.”
Sparrow let out a little laugh as she rolled her eyes. “Julian Devorak, we just had one baby are you trying to butter me to make another?”
Julian grinned knowingly. “Well, I do admit the idea of making another has crossed my mind. But that of course will be for later. I confess that I just adore you and him.” He looked down at the little one in his arms then back at his wife with all the love and adoration in his eyes. “My little family, my beautiful wife and my beautiful son. Just a few years ago I did not think this would have ever been possible and yet here I am, in my clinic with the both of you. Honestly it feels like a dream sometimes, one I would never wish to wake from.”
“You don’t have to worry my love, because this is no dream, and we are not going anywhere.” Sparrow leaned up and kissed his lips gently, slowly, and in a way that nearly brought the doctor to tears.
His eyes were a bit misty as she pulled away. “Thank you my dear.”
“Always and forever my love.” She looked down at their still sleeping son. “By the way, what was that song you were singing? It’s very pretty.”
“That was the song the grandmothers used to sing to us in Nevivon,” Julian explained as he carefully set the sleeping baby back into his crib. “It always seemed to help when either I or Pasha had trouble sleeping. I am glad to know that it still works.”
“Indeed, grandmother magic is often some of the most powerful magic there is.”
Julian’s eyes grew wide. “Wait, was that really magic? Was I casting a spell?”
Sparrow again laughed as she took his hand. “Come to be my love and cast some of that magic on the both of us before the sun rises and our baby decides it’s time to wake up again.”
...
End Notes:
-They indeed do have another child, a daughter by the name Alisa.
-I imagine the lullaby Julian would be singing would be something like this:
For the Tired Dancing prompt from @vesuviaweekly. Have some fluff from Asra and his apprentice Meleia!
_________
There’s little that Meleia and Asra love more than dancing together.
The tricky part is trying to find a good time.
It’s not unusual for the two of them to have private little dances in the kitchen, late at night, when the shop is closed and dinner is all cleaned up and the familiars are happy to be playfully underfoot.
Asra never lets her misstep. No one is going to trod on any tails today.
The whole little family loves this evening tradition.
Sometimes, though, the work day was too long, or something distressing or infuriating happened, or someone is too exhausted for one reason or another.
While Asra can sleep any time, anywhere, Meleia is most definitely a morning person.
So Meleia is usually the one who ends up too tired for a late-night dance (and she feels terrible about it).
In the end, though, they found a solution to that.
The solution came completely by accident. And it turned into one of Asra’s favorite things in the whole world.
As it turns out, it’s very easy to slip into the Magical Realms when one falls asleep. Especially when two very powerful magicians are involved.
And what better place to dance than on the surface of beautifully kaleidoscopic waters in Asra’s oasis?
Or on the sparkling beaches of the Magician’s Realm?
Or maybe, they’ll just wander off into their own little world, never knowing how the Realms might surprise them next.
It doesn’t matter. The surprise is always, always lovely.
For the Magical Realms reflect the thoughts and memories and emotions of any mortal visiting.
And Meleia and Asra are so deeply, purely in love. The whole world around them tends to turn beautiful.
