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Filling In the Corners  by Celeritas

I will not cry, thought Sandra as she sat all alone in the middle of the field where, just a few hours before, she was supposed to have been enjoying herself immensely.  She had been so beautiful, she thought, and everyone had said so, and she had been positive that he would see her and dance with her.  Now she was ripping the petals, one by one, from each of the roses that had adorned her golden hair, and wondered if she had been wrong about Kerry.  Maybe he was just being nice to you all this time, because he felt sorry for you, she thought.  And after all, you know all the couples dances now, and you can dance them quite well.  You don’t exactly need him anymore.

Drat.  There went a tear.  She pulled another rose out, and began ripping.  And crying only made it worse, she knew, because there went a million memories of crying and being held and clinging and snuffling into his shoulder, and suddenly realizing that she wanted those arms around her for the rest of her life, to steady her through all her troubles and share in all her joys.  She loved Kerry.

It was getting very late, and if Mum wasn’t looking for her now she would be soon.  Let her find me, Sandra decided.  But what was she going to say to her mother when she found her outside like this?

The door of Elostirion opened.  Sighing, Sandra resolutely wiped her eyes and stood up to face her mother.  But it was not Mum; it was Kerry.  “Sandra, what’s going on?”

Sandra bristled, straightened her back, and stalked back to her home.

“Sandra?” he said.

She ignored him.

“What’s wrong?”  When she neared him, he took her arm, but she shook him off and shot him with a look so reproachful that he took two steps back.  She shut the door behind herself firmly before running straight to her room.

In a minute Kerry came running, as she knew he would; but he stopped just in front of her door.

“What?” she said.

“Sandra, you know I can’t go in there, now.  It isn’t right.”

Silence.

“Sandra, if you want me to leave you alone, you need only ask.”

At this a fresh torrent of tears started.

“But I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong,” Kerry added.

She wondered if she really should tell him—after all, he’d have to be a ninny not to know—but in the midst of her weeping it came tumbling out.  “You didn’t dance with me!”

Kerry made as if to go into her room, but checked himself.  “I’ve had plenty of dances with you,” he said, using that political tone of voice that meant he was deliberating over every word he said.  “And besides, it’s high time some other lads got their chance.”

“But those weren’t real dances—they weren’t with anyone else nearby or anything!”

“I know.  That’s why I decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to dance with you tonight.”

I knew it.  He doesn’t really love me.  Sandra let her face sink into her hands and sobbed.

She did not know how much time passed—only that suddenly she was startled to feel, almost simultaneously, the part of her bed right next to her sink and a pair of strong arms envelop her.  She looked up at Kerry and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

“It wouldn’t be proper,” he added with a wry smile.

It took a moment for his comment to register.  “What?”

“If I had danced with you tonight, there could have been talk.

“Talk?  What about?  You taught me how to dance, Kerry; how could there be anything improper about actually dancing?”

“Well, you see…”  Kerry hemmed and hawed for a few moments.  “You see, there’s dancing, and then there’s dancing.”  He paused.  “It’s a very subtle difference, but if you look for it you can find it—I guess I’d know about it only because I’ve been old enough to dance with the adults for some time now, and I’ve had a load of chances to observe.  Sandra, when a couple is in love with each other, people can tell.  And if they saw us dancing together, they might think that I had been taking advantage of your youth—that I was courting you before you were old enough.  And that would be bad for us both.”

“But—Kerry, I still don’t understand.  We haven’t… done anything remotely romantic; I don’t even know for sure if you—”

Kerry silenced her with a finger to her lips, and wiped her eyes with his pocket handkerchief.  “I do,” he said.  “I do love you, Sandra, with all my heart.  And if I haven’t made sure that the reverse is true, it’s because you are so much younger; and even if we know that we can wait, other people don’t.”  He smiled to himself.  “And now that I know I can express myself more fully to you, there’s no telling what sort of scandal I could create if I so much as dance with you.”  He bent over to plant his lips on the crown of her head, right among the curls scented with rose and smoke and grass and nighttime air.

Instinctively she leaned into him, pressing her cheek against his shoulder, and when she spoke again her voice was little more than a murmur.  “Kerry,” she said, “if you’re going to kiss me, you may as well do it proper.”

He relaxed his embrace on her and raised her chin with one finger, so that he could look into her face and she into his.  Then, slowly, tenderly, he leaned down, and she felt her eyelids flutter shut as their lips met.

“Thank you,” said Sandra quietly, even as she blushed just pink enough for it to be visible in the dim light.

“And now that the matter of my suit has been broached,” said Kerry, “might it be possible that we remove to some location other than your bedchambers?”

“Oh,” and this time Sandra’s coloring was plain to see, “I’m so sorry—you shouldn’t have even come in here—”

Kerry rose and offered his arm to her.  “I think it was a necessary breach in propriety.  I couldn’t have your heart breaking on me now, could I?”

“Well, thank you, in that case.”  Sandra laid her hand on his arm and rose as well.  They sat down in the tunnel just outside her room, backs to the wall.

“How long do you think it will be before we can dance without creating any scandal?” said Sandra.

“I suppose,” said Kerry, whose infectious smile diminished at the rate of his thoughts, “that it would have to be quite a while, because we’re usually only in the same place for grand occasions.  That’s not much time.”  He half laughed, half snorted.  “Imagine—I happen to fall in love with the lass that lives clear on the opposite side of the Shire!”

“Oh, but that won’t do at all!” Sandra said, but then a light came into her eyes and she gripped Kerry’s arm with both hands.  “You must write to me—sporadically at first, then weekly, then daily.  Mum and Dad are a bright sort; they’ll catch on pretty quickly, and then next time there’s a reunion you can talk to my father and really get things started.”

Kerry laughed.  “That’s a capital idea!  Still,” he added, sobering, “we’ll have to take everything quite slowly.  Letters or no letters, we can’t have much real contact without being impractical.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” said Sandra.  “We have three years before we can really do anything, and even then I don’t think I would be ready to leave home for a good deal of time.  I do love you, Kerry, but not that much.  Not yet, at least,” she added.  “For tonight, I’m content knowing that you love me.”

“As am I, Sandra,” said Kerry, and he could not keep the smile from his lips as he took her hand and raised it to them.  “Good night.”

“Goodnight, Kerry.”  Sandra kissed him on the cheek before returning to her room and closing the door behind her; and that night she dreamt pleasant dreams indeed.





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