The Marionette

Prologue: The Swans

So yah this is AU Ikarishipping, and written in one breath during a rare fit-of-inspiration-and-procrastination. Pretty horrible, though, so good luck!

Paul was sitting stiffly in the living room armchair, skimming through the daily newspaper, which the doorman had just dropped off outside his large Sunyshore apartment when a loud, sharp knock sounded from the front door. Sighing, Paul folded up the paper and strode to open the door, staring outside.

"Yes? Who is it?" Paul asked, brows furrowed in slight irritation.

"PAUL!" Ursula's screeching voice yelled. Paul sighed. Not again…

Ursula dashed into the apartment, throwing herself into the armchair he had just been sitting in, and thrusted a cream-coloured envelope into his face.

Paul took it from her. The old-fashioned wax seal was cracked, meaning Ursula had already looked in it. He opened it, taking out a stiff card and—was that a ticket of some sort?

Trying to ignore the fact that Ursula was staring at him expectantly, Paul opened the card. In blue pen, words were handwritten in elegant, thin cursive.

Dear Miss Ursula of Sunyshore City,

You are cordially invited to attend my performance in the ballet Swan Lake, which will take place two weeks from now at the Stardust Ballet Theatre in Snowpoint City of Sinnoh. Enclosed is one ticket for a seat in a special reserved box for all of my guests. No RSVP required, as the seat is reserved for you. If you cannot attend, please give your ticket to another person, who will go in your place, as no refunds are allowed and tickets are expensive. To do so, please sign in the light blue space at the right of your ticket. This will signify that you have given your permission to let him/her attend in your place. I hope to see you there, and I wish you the best of luck.

Sincerely,

Miss Dawn Berlitz

There was indeed a blue space on the ticket with a pre-printed line for a signature. Seemed straightforward enough.

Paul put the card and ticket back inside the envelope, which he placed on the coffee table next to the newspaper.

"Well?" Ursula asked impatiently, peach curls bobbing as she continued to stare at Paul.

"Well what?" Paul asked.

"Well, will you go in my place?"

"I thought you liked ballet. Why don't you want to go?"

Ursula pulled at air. "I do like ballet. But I will never, ever, ever, go to a ballet with Miss Saved-By-The-Bell Dawn Berlitz in it! Honestly, Paul, don't you know me at all?"

Paul sighed, tilting his head back. So that was why.

Ursula was his girlfriend. Their parents, wealthy business partners, had decided to put them together on Ursula's request after Paul had graduated from university. His degree in International Relations was just a formality. With his family's wealth, and the fact that the business would no doubt be passed on to Reggie and Maylene, Paul would probably never have to work a day in his life. Ursula was the same, with her degree in Performing Arts. Ever since middle school, it had been fairly clear that Ursula was madly infatuated with him, and after university, her parents had proposed to have the two of them date. And, well, Paul's parents couldn't exactly refuse, even though Paul wasn't at all fond of Ursula, and actually found her to be something of an annoyance occasionally.

However, another girl had attended middle school with Paul and Ursula: Dawn Berlitz. She wasn't particularly wealthy, and had made her way into the private academy through a special arts honor program for those with exceptional skills in the arts. Dawn had the same dream as Ursula: to become a professional prima ballerina. Only, of course, Dawn was going to be using it for a living.

Ursula and Dawn hadn't really known each other; Dawn was introverted and slight, preferring to spend her spare time dancing en pointe inside rather than hang out with Ursula's type of popular, glamorous girls. And when highschool arrived, Dawn and Ursula both applied for the same prestigious, dance-centered highschool—which would only accept one student per middle school. Ursula had lost to Dawn, who passed the audition with flying colours while Ursula was forced to try for the drama program at a different school. But ever since then, Ursula had maintained a bitter animosity towards Dawn, who, rather, treated Ursula politely and with respect.

And now, he had to go to her ballet instead of Ursula, who would rather die than be seen in that theatre. Joy.

"Hello? Earth to Paul!" Ursula's voice snapped Paul out of his thoughts, and he turned to find her with her hands on her hips, looking quite petulant.

"So?" Ursula demanded. "Are you going for me or not?"

Paul rolled his eyes. "Fine," he muttered.

Her face brightened instantly. "Awesome! Thanks, Paulie, you're the best! Oh, I've gotta go now—I was supposed to meet my friends for shopping today! Bye!"

And with that, Ursula dashed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her with a loud bang.

Sighing, Paul got up, locked the door, than sat back down in the armchair (finally!) and picked up the envelope, turning it over in his hands. He didn't know much about ballet, but…Dawn Berlitz, eh? This should prove to be interesting.

Paul trudged off the blimp onto the thickly packed snow of Snowpoint City, feet sinking almost up to the ankles in the mass of white. He checked in at the hotel he'd made reservations at. It was five-star, with ambient golden lighting and a massive lobby.

"Hey! Paul!" Paul turned to see a raven-haired guy racing towards him at top speed, followed by an angry-looking girl with orange hair. He squinted at them. Was that Ash? From way back in middle school?

Ash was bent over with his hands on his knees, huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.

"Finally…caught up…*huff*…to you…*huff*…*puff*…" Ash panted. The girl behind him sighed, before pulling out a mallet and bonking Ash squarely on the head with it.

"Come on, Ash. We have to check in, or we'll have no place to stay! And would you like to stay out in the snow all night? With no food?"

Ash bolted upright. "What? Food?"

The girl sighed. Grabbing Ash's ear, she began pulling him towards the front counter, seemingly oblivious to his groans of pain.

"Geez, Misty. At least let me say hi to Paul first…"

"No deal. You can talk to your friends later, or maybe after the ballet. Dawn did plan this as a reunion, you know," the girl (Misty?) snapped, continuing to drag Ash by his ear.

So they were here for the ballet too? It seemed that Dawn gave tickets to all her old acquaintances from back in middle school, and this was the only hotel in Snowpoint, so somewhere around here must be…

"Dreeeeeeeeew!" May yelled.

Paul sweatdropped. Yep, there it was.

"Come on, Zo, we don't want to be late to check in!" Kenny. No doubt about it.

"If you don't let me through right now, I'm going to fine all of you!" Barry was still single. No surprise there.

Before any more crazy people could run up to him, Paul started for the elevator, riding up to the twenty-first floor, where his luxury suite was located.

Stepping in, Paul surveyed his surroundings. The main doorway opened up to a large, elegant living room. The floors were hardwood with lush white carpets. It was decorated in a seamless blend of traditional and modern. A glass coffee table with a crystal vase of fresh white lilies on top sat in the middle of the living room. Soaring windows in front of Paul revealed the clean, snow-covered skyline of Snowpoint, the breezy curtains tucked to the side. A white sofa, tastefully decorated with red throw pillows sat in front of the window, a tall lamp beside it. There was a television on the wall in front of the sofa, and two glass walls with a doorway between then revealed the private dining room to the left of the living room. Not interested in that, Paul opened a door to the right of the living room and found his master bedroom. The hardwood floors were almost entirely covered with a huge white carpet, and directly across from Paul, he could see the master bath through an open door.

The king-size bed was covered in beautiful golden, mahogany, and bronze silken sheets. Brown curtains extended from the ceiling down to the large headpiece, the two small tables to the side of the bed each holding up a small lamp and two drawers. To Paul's right, next to the doorway, there was an elaborately carved dressing table, which Paul doubted he would use anytime soon. To the right was yet another table, this one with the help telephone on it. A little bit in front of the bed, a small, round table held up a slot for his room card key and another vase of lilies, two burgundy armchairs in front of it overlooking the large window, which opened out onto a balcony.

Crossing the room to the bed, Paul took off his shoes in exchange for the comfortable slippers the hotel provided, and hung his coat on the iron coat rack, before heading over to the bathroom to wash his hands and maybe take a shower.

The bathroom was just as golden as the master, with golden and brown tiled walls and a clean white marble floor. The granite counter had a modern sink, and an indent into the counter held another pair of slippers and a neatly folded bathrobe. The whole thing was lit with modern pot lights, racks providing plenty of fresh white towels of every size and shape. The whole wall in front of the counter was a mirror, even extending back to the large Jacuzzi tub, which was filled with lukewarm water, rose petals floating on top. The stand-up shower held the traditional hotel bathing products, and had a special rail for balance. Washing his hands, Paul walked back into the bedroom and went out to the balcony, staring out at the city.

(A.N. OhmyfreakingGodthatwasalongdescription. Iwillneverdothattoyouagain. Promise. BecauseDawn'ssuiteisgoingtobeawholelotsmallersonon eedtoworry.)\

A brisk breeze pulled at Paul's hair, and he was cold, especially without his coat, but staring down at the dizzying ground twenty-one floors below him, Paul smiled.

Meanwhile, Dawn was at the Stardust Theatre, training like crazy.

Stagehands yelled encouragement to her as she twirled on stage in her training clothes, her whole body concentrated on turning. And turning. And turning.

They were counting. Counting, to see how many turns she could do. She had done this before, even gone over her count, but this time, she was aiming for fifty.

Fifty fouettés. In a row. Without moving an inch or stopping. She only had to do thirty-two, of course, but she had done forty.

And now she was about to do ten more.

Forty-three, forty-four, forty-five—keep it up, Mademoiselle, you're almost there—forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine…

Fifty.

Dawn stopped, exhilarated, adrenaline rushing through her. She had done it. She had turned fifty fouettés in a row. Stagehands cheered as she looked at them, beaming so widely she thought her face would split. The stagehands, in turn, were delighted to see their normally calm, perfectly poised Mademoiselle break out in such an outburst of emotion.

Taking a long drink of cool water, Dawn gathered her stuff and slipped out to the changing room, exhausted. Waving at the stagehands, she yelled:

"I'll be back tomorrow too!"

They gave her nods to show that they understood, and Dawn rushed to the ladies' changing room, feeling like she could fly.

She was the only one there, everybody else either out eating dinner or at home making the final touches on their pointe shoes.

Sitting down on a bench, Dawn unlaced her pointe shoes, sliding her feet out of them. She had broken in her shoes long ago—her feet had high, arched insteps. Adding to that, they were slender and tapered, resulting in more chance of injury during practice, and as such, Dawn wore out her shoes very quickly. She had to be careful not to wear these ones out, though—she had spare ones at her hotel, but they hadn't been broken in yet, and it would take at least half a day to make them comfortable, and Dawn just didn't have the time.

Changing back into her street clothes, which consisted of a thick pullover and jeans, Dawn pulled on her winter coat, carefully placed her pointe shoes into her bag, and caught a cab to her five-star hotel, where the Stardust Theatre had graciously provided a room for her.

Her room wasn't anything special—eleventh floor, a queen bed, small bathroom, walk-in kitchen, your standard hotel room—but the service was amazing and all the materials were top-notch high quality. Dawn's costumes were carefully laid out on her bed—the beautiful ballgown and white tutu for Odette, and her favourite: the intricate black tutu of Odile, the black swan. As in traditional Swan Lake productions, Dawn was dancing both the parts of Odette and Odile, almost like reverse personalities.

Dawn carefully hung up her three costumes in the small closet—she'd kept all her other clothes in her suitcase so the costumes wouldn't get scratched—and went to take a quick shower. After that, Dawn quickly changed into a fancy black evening gown—there was a dinner party tonight, and Dawn loved all kinds of parties. She let her hair fall down in a mass of blue past her shoulders, and did her eyes up with black eyeliner, false lashes, and silver eyeshadow. Once she was certain she was ready, Dawn swept down to the third floor which housed the ballroom, putting a lacy black veil over her head.

She danced with many people that night, none seeming to recognize her, thank goodness, and ate some of the most delicious food, marvelling especially at the sweets, before heading upstairs again to her room.

That night, she slept soundly, dreams crisscrossing with white and black swans, and permeating through it all, that vision of her, spinning around and around in a neverending circle of fouettés.

Paul woke up to a crack of sunlight sifting through a gap in the curtains in front of the balcony. Getting out of bed, Paul ordered the sheets slightly, even though people would be coming in here to clean anyway. The two white towels he'd used from last night's shower were folded neatly in front of the bed for them to take away and clean. He hadn't gone down to the dinner party last night, but just as he walked into the bathroom, it struck him:

This was the only hotel in Snowpoint.

The Stardust Theatre didn't have boarding rooms.

Dawn Berlitz was from Twinleaf Town—there was no way she owned a house here.

Therefore…

Chances were Dawn was in this building right now.

Paul checked the time: nine thirty-five in the morning. Scrap that last sentence. No ballerina slept in that far one day before the performance. Sighing, Paul brushed his teeth and splashed his face with cold water. Changing into normal clothes, Paul pulled his coat off the rack and headed down to the second floor to have breakfast.

"Hi, Sir, is there anything we can do for you?" A lady asked Paul as he stepped into the jewelry store.

"Yes, actually. I'd like to see the pearls." Paul said. Before he went, Ursula had been talking nonstop about black pearls, and Paul was pretty sure that if he didn't go back to Sunyshore with at least one of those earrings for her, Ursula was going to blow her top off.

Walking behind the lady, Paul was led into a space piled with pearl jewelry of every sort. He marched straight over to the black pearls, where another lady was helping a young woman. Gazing at the assortments, Paul frowned. He had no idea how to pick jewelry for a girl, and it didn't help that three more customers suddenly appeared and the two ladies left to help them.

Looking over his shoulder, Paul saw the young woman, who apparently couldn't choose between two identical black and white pearl necklaces. Her hair was completely tucked up under a creamy white winter hat, and her blue eyes sparkled as she stared at the pearl necklaces.

"Which one do you think I should get?" The girl asked him.

Paul shrugged. "Try them on."

"I already did, but neither that lady nor I can decide."

"Try them on again."

The girl hesitated, before pulling out the black pearls. They showed off her creamy skin and made her look older and sophisticated, but Paul tilted his head, frowning. There was something about them that he didn't like.

"No?" The girl asked.

Paul sighed. Why was he helping her? "The other one," he said.

The white pearls were iridescent and flawless, adding to her already elegant look. Paul frowned. They were just as pretty as the black pearls, and the glow of them…

"Get those ones."

The girl beamed. "Really? Thanks!" She took off the white pearls and called for the lady, who led her back to the front. Paul picked up the black pearls, fingering them. They didn't cost very much—a splurge, maybe, for the girl, but next to nothing for Paul. Turning around, he called as well.

Ursula ought to like the necklace.

Stepping into the Stardust Theatre wearing her brand-new pearls, Dawn thought back to the guy in the jewelry shop. There was something familiar about him, something almost nostalgic. Shrugging it off, Dawn changed into her ballgown. Dress rehearsal was in half an hour, and she had to hurry if she wanted everything right on time.

(A.N. Ohoho so the pearls girl was Dawn…poor Paul…he's stuck with Ursula as a girlfriend…ohoho…)

Paul had just finished his room-service ordered dinner. For some inane reason, Paul couldn't get that pearls girl out of his head. Her smile…that voice…there was something lingeringly familiar about her, something lurking right on the edge of his mind…but he couldn't remembed it. Banishing those thoughts from his head, Paul opened his door and slid the tray out into the hallway. It was well past ten o clock, and the ballet started the next morning at eleven. With no alarm clock coupled with his tendency of sleeping past nine in the morning, Paul figured he should go to bed soon.

And he did just that.

Back in her room, a tired but triumphant Dawn sat on her bed, playing with the little dolphin the cleaners had folded using the towels she had left for them to clean. Everything had gone perfectly during the rehearsal—her fifty fouettés, pointe shoes being ready for tomorrow, costumes, everything. Now, having already finished dinner, Dawn placed the little dolphin on her bedside table and got ready for bed, her body tingling with anticipation for tomorrow's ballet.

The theatre was filled to the brim, Paul sitting in a private box with a perfect view of the stage. Ash, Misty, Zoey, Kenny, May, and Drew were all sitting with him. None of them talked to each other, preferring instead to watch the stage intently as music started to play.

In the prologue when Dawn makes her appearance, the theatre clapped deafeningly as she danced on stage in a ballgown, seeming to almost float. When Von Rothbart transformed her into a swan, the entire theatre gasped as she fell violently to the floor, disappearing and appearing again in a white tutu—the white swan.

In Act One, the Prince was dancing and laughing, being the embodiment of merriment. Paul flipped open the paper they had given him, just barely making out the words due to lack of light.

Odette—Miss Dawn Berlitz

Siegfried—Mr. Riley Steel

Odile—Miss Dawn Berlitz

Von Rothbart—Mr. Grimsley Shadow

The other names Paul couldn't make out, but he knew enough already. Turning his attention back to the stage, Paul saw Siegfried and some other men rush off stage, apparently in pursuit of a flock of swans.

In Act Two, Siegfried rushes to the Swan Lake, aiming a crossbow at one of the swans, but then drops it as the swan turns into Odette, Dawn making her second appearance. A beautiful dance followed by Von Rothbart's appearance follows, with Odette and the Prince falling in love before dawn comes and the swans are dragged back to the lake.

Then, the scene changed to an opulent hall, where a woman appearing to be the Queen talks to Siegfried. He subsequently dances with six princesses, not liking any of them. The audience, himself included, Paul discovered, were all holding their breath for the Black Swan to appear—Odile, accompanied by Von Rothbart.

When Dawn appeared dressed in black, the audience cheered again, and Siegfried began to dance with her, thinking she was Odette. Paul saw Odile begin to turn…what was she up to?

Just then, May gasped. "Drew! The thirty-two fouettés! We have to count this!"

Ash's voice sounded. "Mist is on it."

Dawn started turning beautifully, one after the other. Paul heard Misty counting out loud, and against his will, he began to count in his head as well.

"Hey, Kenny," Zoey's voice said. "The Black Swan has to turn thirty-two fouettés, right?"

"Yeah," Kenny replied. "Let's hope she makes it."

Paul kept counting…and counting…and counting. Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two!

The audience cheered, but they were in for a surprise: Dawn kept turning! Paul frantically started counting again, along with the rest of the audience. Together, their whispered chanting turned into a loud beat, categorizing each turn.

Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty!

Dawn finally stopped to exuberant cheers from the crowd. Paul didn't notice the rest of the act, too busy wrapping his mind around the fact that Dawn had just turned fifty fouettés in a row.

Finally, Act Four came along, and as Siegfried and Von Rothbart battled back and forth, much to the dismay of Dawn, who was Odette again, Von Rothbart died, and the spell was broken, but Siegfried, suffering from a mortal wound, was killed as well. As Paul watched, Odette came back in the ballgown from the prologue and collapsed in front of the dead prince, and as Dawn bowed her head, body slumped forward in lamentation, the curtains closed to a long standing ovation.

Paul stood up, feeling like he was waking from a dream. Looking around, he could see that the others felt the same way.

"Oh, man, Dawn was awesome," May said, stretching out her stiff muscles.

"Agreed," Misty sighed, nodding.

Then, a stagehand walked up to their box and gave them each matching envelopes.

Paul flipped his open. A card inside read, in Dawn's thin cursive:

Dear Friend,

You are cordially invited to a reunion dinner party tomorrow night at five-thirty in the evening at the Snowpoint Rosewater, under the reservation "Berlitz". Please dress appropriately, and please refrain from bringing anyone else. Thank you, and I hope to see you tomorrow.

Sincerely,

Miss Dawn Berlitz.

Paul put the card back into the envelope. The blimp back to Sunyshore didn't leave until next week, so why not? Tuning out the excited chatters of the other occupants of the box, Paul walked outside the Theatre, pulling on his coat. That image of Dawn spinning around and around and around was playing in his brain, as well as overlapping images—two identical swans, one pure white, the other solid black.

SO YAH WHAT DID YOU THINK?

This was sooooo long. I was actually gonna write more…but then I checked the word count and was like "Oh God this is ten pages and like four thousand words, I should probably spare them." So, yeah. This will be updated pretty sparingly, as three stories is a lot to handle right now and Acquaintances is first on my priority list. Well, anyway, IKARISHIPPIIIIING! And sorry if this was too long….^_^