dahlia rookwood just gives up (thebluedahlia) wrote in find_horcruxes, @ 2009-12-11 17:35:00 |
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Ice skating used to be a fond holiday tradition, especially during the teenage years, on winter breaks between classes. But seventh year was pretty much the very last time Dahlia had done the activity, putting it as over a decade since she had gotten into her skates. The only way to discern her skills in the sport would be to slip them on again and give it a whirl. The opportunity even came in form of another date with Damocles. After the adversity of last week regarding the werewolves, he probably could have definitely used a lighter task. Hopefully... he'd be able to balance himself on the ice, on just a thin blade. Dahlia pushed herself up after tying her skates on, pushing her hair out of the way. She had been looking forward to this, surprisingly, considering that they were in the company of Muggles. It would have been far more pleasant to travel to a frozen pond, as she did when she was younger, but alas, no frozen ponds lately. Skating around Muggles would have to do. Hopefully, she wouldn't be discovered by anyone she knew here. And she'd be able to steer clearly away from them too. "I can not recollect if you've told me, but do you know how to skate?" It had been a whirlwind week, saturated by an unimaginable amount of complications and very little sleep; and with some victims lost and some barely stabilized, Damocles was finding out after too many special-circumstance extra shifts that perhaps he did have limits that could be tested after all. If he closed his eyes, he could see some of the wounds he tended to still, etched on the back of his eyelids. But this was what he went into critical care for, after all; and he knew that it was not easy. And that was – sort of – why he was here; lacing on a pair of skates with Dahlia at the edge of a rink in the park. Because she had asked, and because whether he knew it or not, he did need this respite, this chance to recharge. Which, alas, did not mean that he did not feel ridiculous. The short answer to her question was that no, Damocles had not yet made mention of his abilities or lack thereof on ice; and that no, he could not as a matter of fact be said to know how to skate, exactly, quite. Which was slightly galling, all in all, because he did so hate not being proficient (to say the very least) at everything he takes on, and he did so likewise despise having to admit weakness. But in this case, Damocles figured it was best to just admit to it and suffer the indignities than to over-inflate expectations of his abilities. "I don't know how to skate, unfortunately," he said with a rather sheepish smile as he tried to stand up – and succeeded (precariously). Asking was the right thing to do, Dahlia decided, holding out her hand. She would have to teach him. Under other circumstances, becoming the instructor appeared to be a very difficult and nerve-wracking task. She rarely had any patience for anyone who lacked prior experience. But with a great deal of time that had passed, it was entire feasible that she would have a hard time pulling out her skills from her long-term memory. Perhaps it would have been a better idea to get onto the ice first and determine how much she could remember before offering the guidance. "Hopefully, I would be able to keep you on your feet. I've not done this since my last year at Hogwarts." That was pretty shameful to admit, but it would have been more low to pretend she had done this recently, and then fall on her behind in the middle of the rink. If he were someone who grew up with the Pureblood emphasis on propriety of conduct and such things, he might have been taken utterly aback by the fact that the lady was offering her hand; but he was a Belby, barely staying upright, sleep-deprived and tired and amongst a park of unwitting Muggles. In short, who cares? Damocles took the proffered hand to try and steady himself more. "Not very long ago then," he joked. And wobbled. "Are we going to be the relatively vision-impaired leading the categorical blind?" "That's quite accurate," she said after a laugh. The other hand held onto the post at the entrance to the ring, so she wouldn't wobble with him. So far so good. Holding his hand, she stepped gingerly onto the ice. Again, so far so good. She wasn't struggling to stay upright at least. For the moment. "I suppose for once I'll take the gentleman's role and assure you that I would not let you fall." They were around Muggles who didn't care that a lady wasn't acting lady-like anyway. Breaking out of that norm for one day wouldn't hurt. "And I assure you that, though these are undoubtedly positions neither of us has had occasion to find ourselves in frequently, I recognise that this is likely the proper time to offer thanks," Damocls replied almost automatically, too focused upon trying to stay upright (and maybe, just maybe, cursing himself a little for agreeing to this clearly ingenious idea that will likely result in bruised tailbones among many other things). "I am, in any case, appreciative of your efforts in this regard." There, both blades on ice. That wasn't so bad. "You need not worry. After this, I will probably be more apprehensive about doing something that even I myself am uncertain of achieving." Maybe she should have given herself a nice refresher course about a good week beforehand. Dahlia turned slightly, taking the first step forward. She didn't let go of him, of course (besides the obvious reason, it also just... felt nice), and so her step was just a smile shift of a foot forward. The next step forward, and she felt her foot nearly wobble in its place. Well, that wasn't a pleasant surprise. No doubt, she would have to balance herself too, which led her to decide that it was better if they stayed at the edge so she could use the railing for support. The sudden small shift in Dahlia's centre of balance passed through their linked hands like an electric current, and Damocles tensed up as well, feeling suddenly... like this was perhaps not the best idea to have agreed to, and not the best decision that he has made, in recent years or ever. There were two likely ways this was going to end: once they get started, he discovers that he is a natural prodigy at the art of ice-skating, which is possible but not very probable; or his tail-bone shall swiftly make the acquaintance of the ice, which is undersireable but more likely. Of course, these two scenarios were contingent upon the fact that Dahlia herself would be able to stay upright, which he had little reason to doubt until... now. "Are you alright?" "Yes!" It was a quick reply, almost to hide the embarrassment that she could have slipped. But considering he had noticed, it would have been absurd to try and hide it. Dahlia gave him an apologetic smile, before reaching out to grasp the railing. "I should have given myself a test run." She could do this. Dahlia Rookwood could do this. There was not anything in the world she couldn't do except for the things she had yet to try! After pausing to take a deep breath, she risked moving her feet again a few more inches, and much to her relief, found that she was able to keep herself stable this time. "I should have taken lessons first," Damocles laughed in return, though it was rather aborted and subdued, given that when she moved forward he was sort of compelled to follow – haltingly – his skates on the ice, following not any sensible tracks but along something like an impetuous rhythm unto itself. "I had hoped it would be like flying for the first time," he admitted, sheepish once more. "Something just clicking into place, like that. Though I suppose we've only been on the ice for about a minute, so any clicking can still happen. Any time now." "Oh, we will manage eventu--" Dahlia stopped moving when a child cut by very closely, and pretty quickly too. Muggle child. Ugh. She had ceased in moving not just to avoid touching that thing, but also so neither of them would get knocked off their feet. Did this lot not have any manners? Her movement had also been abrupt that while she had been able to stay upright, she wasn't entirely assured that Damocles would stay that way. Her grip on his hand tightened to keep him there. Instead of, well, lying on the ice. "That collision would have been--." Under normal circumstances, Damocles would be more than appreciative of the extra pressure on his hand. Currently, however, he was – flailing, for lack of a better word, much to his own chagrin. The start-and-stop routine Dahlia had engaged in was all too sudden, and though her balance had been regained in the instants after the near run-in, Damocles was not so lucky. So it was that before Dahlia had even finished speaking, his centre of balance had shifted toward the unsalvageable; and in another fraction of a second, his initial prediction had come true and Damocles' tail-bone was, indeed, making the acquaintance of the ice that is no longer exactly beneath his skates. With their hands still very much in contact, it wasn't possible for Dahlia to be staying upright either. Of course, she could have instantly let go if she wanted to, but she hadn't. It was mostly because she had been hoping she would be able to keep him up. Wishful thinking in vain. He was still taller and had more weight on him than she did. When he went down, she was pulled down along with him, her sentence ending in a slight cry of surprise instead of the word "disastrous". Which was the best way to describe their idea of ice-skating. And she landed pretty much on top of him. Damocles winced upon impact, but bit back any exclamations. Oh, he knew better, alright: the moment one gave any indication that one's female companion in fact weighed anything more substantial than a puff of air – no matter the fact that such a case would be absolutely impossible unless one were in fact nothing more than a puff of air, given gravitational pull at work – was to set oneself up for... a world of unpleasantness. (No, he didn't learn this from first-hand experience! Why would anyone think that?) So instead he laid his head down on the ice and laughed, adjusting his glasses in the meantime, which had been knocked askew by the impact. "I'm so, so sorry," he said to Dahlia, who seemed for the most part to be unharmed. That was the most ungraceful moment of her life. Not only that but some of these Muggles were staring in amusement. But when Dahlia lifted up her head near his shoulder, she heard Damocles laugh, and couldn't help herself from doing the same. She reached up and pushed her hair away from her face before giving him a smile. "It's a perpetual balance, I suppose. One date goes off with no hitch and the next experiences difficulties. I'm sorry if I broke a rib or anything." "All ribs intact and no harm done, save for perhaps a bit of ego bruising" he replied, still laughing and having propped himself off the ice by his elbows at this point. Getting upright and off the ice, though, Damocles wasn't even going to attempt for the next few seconds, given that he did just get the wind knocked out of him. "On the plus side, no one we know needs to know," he said to Dahlia after a pause. "Are you all right?" Dahlia had managed to push herself off of him, but only to get her behind onto the ice next to him. For as long as their coats could keep their arses from dropping in degrees, they could sit there. She didn't mind it. "Oh, do not worry about me. It was just a slight startle, but I'm okay." No bruises on her, thank Merlin, or as far as she could feel. There might have been the slight ego-bruising for her as well, because dammit, she had been hoping she'd be an exceptional skater and teacher. But that hadn't turned out as the way she had wished. Other than that, her body was still intact, and she was sure she'd be able to get up again. Should they dare to try again, that is. Or she could have just sat there with him, in close proximity. Muggles seemed to have the right thought considering no one had come up and fussed over them. Leave the young lady and gentleman on the ice alone because they seemed to be enjoying each other's company, if not the impact of ice on tailbone. Damocles sat up as well, carefully digging the ends of his skates into the ice and bringing his knees up toward his chest. Turning to look sideways at Dahlia, he was somewhat surprised to find that he still couldn't quite suppress the laugh that bubbled so close to the surface, like a coiled spring unwinding after too much tension for all too long. But it was a good feeling, like a long exhale. "I can see the appeal though," he said at length, a smile still lingering at the corner of his mouth. "Skating, I mean. It's hard to pay attention to anything else, though that might change, I suppose, once you know how to do it better." And distractions seemed to be a necessary thing for getting through the day nowadays. "If you have the patience, maybe I'll be able to teach you to become that good," Dahlia said, laughing. "But perhaps, for now, we ought to retire back to familiar grounds." It sounded like a pleasant idea to head back to Diagon Alley and spend the rest of their date warming themselves up on hot cocoa from a cafe. As far as distractions went, this was successful in pushing out thoughts of Cygnus Black's death or werewolves for both of them. |