Archive of Our Own ^beta

Valkyrie remembered music and waltzing, her partner every bit as good as he claimed. His movements were fluid, practiced, graceful as he led her in an elegant routine. Which meant she could be as terrible a dancer as she liked, and they would still be the most talked-about couple for decades, centuries beyond that. She felt all eyes on her and her partner. In any other situation, she’d have shuddered under the attention, but right now, she was too exhilarated to care.

Her dress — a strapless, full-length, rich black gown — clung to her built frame, toned arms on display and fanned out delicately when her partner spun her. As he did, Valkyrie became aware they had cleared the entire floor. The other dancers, too distracted by the mesmerising couple, simply forgot to keep moving, abandoning the floor in favour of watching from the sidelines, enraptured. They formed a circle around the captivating pair, spotlighting them for all to see.

She was dipped and briefly spotted Ghastly with Tanith, remnant freshly extracted from her, courtesy of Dr Nye. She smiled at them, and they gave a little wave back, Tanith giving her a thumbs up before dropping her hand. Her partner whipped her up to face him, giving her little choice but to look into the empty sockets where his eyes should be. She tore her eyes away, looking down, unable to meet the intense gaze somehow coming from those empty hallows. He murmured something in her ear, about how terrible a dancer she is, and Valkyrie tilted her head back in laughter, letting herself spin with him, letting herself be led by the skeleton in the exquisitely tailored suit.

Detective Pleasant hummed lyrics in her ear as they moved. She shivered — his voice was velvet, warm air brushing the shell of her ear. Skulduggery laughed gently as he felt it.

At last

My love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

Oh, yeah, yeah

Everyone on the sidelines whispered to themselves, not daring to take their eyes off the dancing pair, not even for a second. Valkyrie could hear the sound of hushed whispers over the music as they glided along the polished floor. He sung softly in her ear with his smooth voice, the hand that wasn’t already preoccupied with Valkyrie’s own travelled down her back, bordering venereal terrain.

At last

The skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up in clover

The night I looked at you

Valkyrie wondered when the last time was that Skulduggery had sung to her, and made a quiet promise to make it happen more often. He kept singing low in her ear, and then it clicked. The looming shunt, Skulduggery climbing in through her window, refusing to leave her side, the soft lyrics drifting across her room, lulling her to sleep

She twirled out, Skulduggery pulled her back into him, and his hand briefly glided out of friendly territory. He tilted his skull in such a manner that Valkyrie just knew he was smirking at her. He sent her out again, but this time she used that momentum, bending her knees and interlocking their arms as he lifted her, her feet dragging delicately as they spun. She looked up at him, smiling while she wondered how they managed to pull this technical move off. She was set back on her feet again as Skulduggery drew her back in, the dance almost over.

I found a dream that I could speak to

A dream that I can call my own

I found a thrill to press my cheek to

A thrill that I've never known, oh, yeah, yeah

Valkyrie felt his bony leg on the tops of her thighs as he led her around the expanse of floor once again, Valkyrie smiling all the way. For once, there were no bad guys, no disaster they had to fix, no world to save. Just Skulduggery Pleasant’s skeletal frame oh so close to her own, whisking her around the floor at the Sanctuary’s Requiem Ball. She barely captured a glimpse of the blur of familiar faces as they spun past, the thrill spinning her head more than the dancing. Skulduggery pulled at their clasped hands, placing them over where his heart would be if he still had one, forcing Valkyrie to move in — just that little bit closer. She met his gaze once again, twin voids staring directly at her and, this time, she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

You smiled, you smiled

Oh, and then the spell was cast

And here we are in Heaven

For you are mine at last

He twirled her close to him once more and pulled her arm onto his back, drawing her in close as Valkyrie slid her hand from his back to his shoulder, and back down to his waiting gloved hand, riding out the last few chords of the song.

She spun out from him again, under his influence, and they let go of each other’s hands just as the music stopped. Song over. It was quite a dramatic finish, Valkyrie thought.

The mass of bystanders clapped as Skulduggery offered a modest bow, then straightened and gestured the attention to Valkyrie with all the flair of someone unveiling a priceless exhibit. Valkyrie gave a sheepish smile, cheeks a little pink, fully aware they'd just become the story everyone would be whispering about for years. They stepped off to the side, allowing the crowd to flood back onto the floor, as if the last five minutes hadn’t just raised the bar for ballroom dancing and general theatrics alike.

The waltz changed to some different variation of ballroom dance; the musicians, still in awe of the previous performance, struggled to keep up with the seemingly sudden change in music. The other guests nodded and murmured among themselves, not bothering to notice the errors in music as they danced once again.

“Well, Detective Pleasant,” Valkyrie struggled to say between the big gasps of air she took in, still managing to look put together, “that wasn’t all bad.”

Skulduggery looked at her and was about to come back with a witty remark when a loud crash interrupted their conversation. The other guests alarmed and running as a table was launched halfway across the room, a body flying with it, unrecognizable in the twisting tablecloth. Ghastly, tailored buttoned shirt rolled up at the arms, stepped out from where the table was launched and continued his attack. The figure in the tablecloth tried to wrestle himself free as he writhed in the fabric. Then, his movements froze; the ground beneath him cracked, and the figure vanished into the floor, the fabric collapsing flat as if a ghost had simply evaporated from beneath it. Reappearing from behind Ghastly, he tried to launch a punch at him, but Ghastly dodged to the left, spun, and punched.

“What in tarnation did ya’ do that for?” Sanguine drawled, spitting a thick spray of blood from his split lip.

“All I want is her,” he lazily gestured toward Tanith, who glared daggers back. “Then ya’ll can go back to celebratin’ whatever the hell ya’ll celebratin’.”

Ghastly’s fist shot up like a piston, connecting with a brutal uppercut that slammed into Sanguine’s jaw with sickening force. The sound of cracking bone echoed through the hall as Sanguine’s head snapped back violently, his body twisting mid-air before gravity slammed him hard into the polished floor. He skidded across the tiles, a spray of blood trailing behind him.

Still conscious but dazed, Sanguine struggled to push himself up, hands shaking as he wiped the blood streaming from his nose. His breath came in ragged gasps, chest heaving as he lunged forward, pulling a wicked blade from his pocket.

Valkyrie didn’t hesitate. Of course. One of the most important celebrations in sorcerer history, and Sanguine chose now to be an idiot. She surged forward, releasing a sharp wall of compressed air that slammed into Sanguine’s chest like a freight train, sending him sprawling backwards. Flames flickered to life in her palm, and with a sharp snap of her fingers, she unleashed a roaring stream of fire mixed with slicing gusts of wind. The heat scorched Sanguine’s clothes, and the searing flames licked at his skin, forcing him to dive through the floor just in time to avoid being engulfed.

Moments later, he erupted from the floor a few yards away, but Valkyrie was relentless. She lunged, her heel connecting with a brutal crack against his ribs. Sanguine gasped, doubling over as the wind was knocked out of him, then she spun him around and delivered a devastating kick to the side of his head that rattled his skull.

Skulduggery glided in beside her, his bony fingers snapping the air sharply. A blast of pressurized air hit Sanguine’s chest, sending him crashing to the ground again. Sanguine’s hand darted for his blade, but Ghastly was faster. With a quick pivot, Ghastly caught Sanguine’s wrist, twisting it painfully until the knife clattered to the floor.

The two men circled each other, Sanguine weaving and ducking, reappearing and disappearing with desperate agility. Ghastly’s punches were heavy and precise—each blow thudding solidly into Sanguine’s ribs, jaw, and stomach. One punch lifted Sanguine off his feet, the impact reverberating up his arm, before he crashed down hard onto the floor.

Tanith watched from the sidelines, biting her lip as she flexed her fingers, regretting the choice to forgo her sword for fashion tonight. Blood dripped down Sanguine’s face, mixing with dirt and sweat as he groaned, trying to stay conscious.

Valkyrie tightened her control, conjuring thick, writhing shadows that slithered over Sanguine’s limbs, pinning him in midair.

“Oh hell,” Sanguine muttered, panic flickering in his eyes as he struggled against the shadow binds. His breaths were ragged, his movements sluggish.

Ghastly raised his fist, and with a terrifying force, slammed it down into Sanguine’s nose with a crack like a breaking branch. A fountain of blood burst from the broken cartilage as Sanguine’s head snapped back, eyes rolling before he collapsed unconscious, limp on the floor.

Ghastly, seeing no reason to stick around, strode back to Tanith, leaving the crumpled heap of idiot on the floor.

“Do you think we should cuff him?” Valkyrie asked, not really expecting an answer.

“Judging from the sound of that punch,” Skulduggery answered, “I don’t think he’ll be getting back up in a while. Even then, that is going to be one serious concussion.”

Skulduggery took her hand again and stepped over Sanguine’s body to continue their dance once more, as their song played yet again.

That’s odd, she thought, how many times has she heard this song? Valkyrie couldn’t recall.

Skulduggery waltzed alone, slow and deliberate, each step echoing softly in the small room.

He danced through the individual steps until the song finished and by the end, he was on his knees, staring up at the pyramid-shaped cube that held his partner in stasis. The accelerator powering her eternal prison and he knew that if he were able to cry, all his tears would be for her.

The song played over again, for the thousandth time that night, and he sank into it. A few replays later, he found the strength to stand again. She hadn’t moved. She never did. Still locked inside herself.

She was just as beautiful as the day they locked her in there, he thought. She went willingly, bravely.

Skulduggery leaned his head up against the glass, bone clinking softly. Remembering just as fondly the Requiem Ball 42 years prior, his skeletal fingers tracing over the glass, so close to her yet so far away. A promise bubbled from him, the same one as every year and one that he’d preserve each year beyond this one.

He promised her.

And he would promise her again — a thousand times more.

Her eternal keeper.

Until the end.