Author's Note
This is sort of, but not really, a sequel to my other story "Of All The King's Wives," and there probably will be spoilers for it if you choose to read this one first.
But go ahead and get down with your bad self and read in any way you want. I don't judge... too much.
SUMMARY
Tea is an aspiring ballet dancer. She's been doing it all her life, but has never been granted a solo or even a duet. That is, until some mysterious happenings surround her rival dancer, Angeline Everstone, while rehersing for the upcoming performance of "The Sands of Solipsism". Although Tea's never heard of it, there's a legend surrounding the ballet; that whomever has the leading role of Sekherta, the guile and murderous Ancient Egyptian Queen, is haunted by her spirit. Sekherta is known to be one of the hardest and most pressuring roles in all ballet to dance. But when an accident strikes the ballet company, Tea is forced to fill the role, unaware that the spirit of Sekherta is out for revenge against her ancient husband, a mysterious Pharaoh who once had seven beautiful wives, the same pharaoh that is Tea's friend/crush; Yami.
There will be PEACHSHIPPING & some Revolutionshipping.
I'm NOT a fan of revolutionshipping- firstly, Yami knows Yugi has a crush on Tea. Dating Tea would mean using Yugi's body to date Yugi's crush, and Yami- with all those honor and friendship speeches- would never do that. But in order for this fic to work out, I just have to suck it up.
Act I, Scene I
Your toes are never pointed in the right direction. Your facials are never quite expressive enough, and even if they are adequate, they're never expressed at the appropriate times. Your jumps are never high enough. Your turns are too slow or the way you outstretch your arm is too quick, too stiff. Most wouldn't believe it, but ballet is probably one of the more difficult forms of dance. Yes, it looks graceful and all, but that's because we've sweat and we've cried and we've twisted our ankles enough times to make it look that way. Perfection is painful. And that's what we strive for; perfection. Or, at least, our understanding of it.
Apparently, my understanding of perfection is a lousy one. Madame Thibeault makes that crystal clear at almost every rehearsal. In fact, she wouldn't even allow me to try out for any of the main roles; not the killer queen, Sekherta, or the pharaoh's lover, Kemat; not even one of the many wives who eventually are slain like Neferme or Anahknemrure. Ever since I began ballet classes as a young girl, "The Sands of Solipsism" has always been one of my favorite ballets. I mean, I literally sit in my room and watch variations of the ballet like it's a canticle and I'm learning through catechism. I admire the story so much- the romance, the enlightening dread, the gracefulness in which fear and murder are portrayed. Even alongside my hip-hop, jazz, and electro classes, my passion has always been to dance the part of Sekherta; the murderous, misunderstood Queen of Egypt.
Most would want to be Kemat because she's the only ray of hope in all the story who fell in love with the pharaoh and yada-yada, all that good stuff. Not saying I don't like Kemat- I do- and I would gladly accept that part as well, but I have always been in rapt by the way the ballerinas who dance as Sekherta move! Even when they dance the murders. There's something just so surreal and true about the way they coruscate about the stage. And as disturbing as it is, they make insanity and murder almost look sensuous. You know, like, you want to taste the sin. It's terrible! It's almost like they're not themselves on stage, but instead are laced in a dark euphoria left behind by Sekherta herself.
I craved the part even more when I met Yami. His opinion on dance of any kind was never made clear, but I'm sure he would at least appreciate the story of this ballet. It may even help him remember his past, if only just a little bit. He is our real Pharaoh, our beloved friend and Ancient Egyptian spirit. When I heard that we'd be performing The Sands of Solipsism, I spent every free moment I could learning both the parts of Sekherta and Kemat. I mean, I already knew them pretty well, but a little obsessive practice never hurt anyone. Ok, scratch that last part. I hoped and prayed that I'd get one of the parts for Yami.
I want to perform for him and maybe not all for the purpose of reintroducing him to life in Ancient Egypt. Maybe I want it more for his attention, for his eyes to be on me and only me; to enchant him, I guess I could say. Ok, I know that sounds cliché, but it's just like picking out a cute outfit for a party or get-together. What other reason have you to do so if not to "enchant" a certain cutie?
And you'd think that because I already know those parts by heart that I'd actually get a main role. Nope. I'm pretty much set on the belief that Madame Thibeault hates my guts. That's why I was cast as Servant Girl # 3. In the background again, never a solo in the spotlight, never allowed to stand out from the rest. When we did The Nutcracker, I was always one of the flowers or snowflakes. Cinderella and The Sleeping Beauty; I was just another ballroom dancer, and one time when I got lucky, I was a mouse. And Giselle- one of the most fought over roles for ballerinas worldwide- yeah, no. I didn't even get my hopes up for that one.
A few days ago, Madame Thibeault, my ballet instructor and manager of the company, revealed to us that we'd be performing it for the Winter Traditional. Almost everyone does The Nutcracker around this time of year, when really the Winter Traditional is all about showing off what you've been working on all season, perfecting your most difficult performances and putting your best dancers center stage for the audience and scouts to feast upon. Madame Thibeault understood that. So, instead of La Bayadère, Coppélia, or Romeo & Juliet, she chose one of the more rare and intimidating ballets.
But, of course, the lead role could never go to anyone who is as tardy as I am to rehearsals. Hey, it's only because I have a monstrous amount of homework, and I know for sure that I am far too tired after ballet classes to do be doing any calculus work. I'm still surprised that some of my fellow dancers aren't late because we have a lot of the same classes together at school. Especially Summer Woods.
Madame Thibeault has me stay late after practice. She says it's to catch up, but I know it's really a punishment. I do T-Kicks and wall-sits while she plays Charles Aznavour singing "La Boheme" on repeat. Summer, Hayden, and Angeline are staying after as well. As much as I admire them as dancers, and may even call Summer a friend at times, I can't help but despise them watching them practice the lead roles- two of which should have been mine! Summer is to be the beautiful Kemat, Hayden is Pharaoh, and Angeline is the graceful sinner Sekherta. Ugh!
"Très belle, très belle, Angeline." Madame Thibeault applauds. "Now, you are lost in yourself. Reach out for the world! You want to be saved! Yes, yes, Angeline! C'est bonne!"
I have to admit that Angeline is a talented dancer. Heck, she's the best in the company! She's been dancing "en pointe" since she was nine. She acts the part of Sekherta well-enough for just learning the variation a few days ago, but there's just something missing. Yeah, Angeline has the looks both in the way she dances and physically. She's fierce, she's confident, and I peg her as a total bully sometimes. But she doesn't dance like Svetlana Zakharova or Yuan Yuan Tan, or- oh my gosh- Fantasme Dvorzhetski; the greatest ballerinas to have ever danced as Sekherta. Or just the greatest ballerinas ever. They've always been my idols alongside Yugi and Yami, of course.
I'm not saying I can do a better job than Angeline, but at the same time, I really am.
I sweat my envy, watching as Angeline turns an astounding set of ten fouettes en pointe. Madame Thibeault bursts into a clapping frenzy as she usually does when she's proud. My wobbly and sore knees give in to frustration and my butt falls hard onto the floor.
"Tea? I didn't say you could stop. Five more minutes of wall sits. Maybe this will teach those scrawny legs of yours to walk faster so you can get here on time."
"Yes, Madame Thibeault." I roll my eyes. But her attention is quickly brought over to Summer instead of ensuring that I return to the sweat-imprinted wall. Angeline practices in front of the mirror while Madame Thibeault instructs Summer and Hayden through counts.
"And on three, a clean tour en l'air. Then from there," she guides Summer's arms gently, "I need you to give me a clean petite sissone starting from the fifth position. Remember, Pharaoh is your friend. You're greeting, you're fantasizing. Show me a romance blooming from this friendship."
It's terribly cruel to have to watch them learn the parts I love so very much. I can do those moves; the arabesques, the fouettes, even a graceful tour en seconde. I can perform as the Queen of Egypt, I can even be the servant Kemat and the object of Pharaoh's affections.
If only Madame Thibeault knew that it's not just about the ballet.
I can be like my idols and leave an enthralled crowd excited and applauding for more. As Summer and Hayden are guided through the motions, I can see the dance in my mind just as it was performed in the height of the ballet's popularity. It was Josephine Pena, a young and fresh dancer who played Kemat, and Mathias Ebdel who danced the pharaoh. This is the part when she dances alone with Pharaoh in the throne room. They were falling in love behind closed doors, their arms entwining and their passion pulsing.
It's a 'Pas de Deux'. A partner dance.
My arms follow along with the music like it's an instinct. I close my eyes and it's me standing there beside Yami. He's dressed as a pharaoh should be, lathered in gold, and in the finest of tunics. I am Kemat, the servant of his fourth wife Sekherta. We are in the throne room when he lifts me into the air with such ease. I feel free, beloved. We almost forget about the steps to the dance it just feels so natural. Although the surrounding Egyptian palace looks more like an artistic stage setting than the real deal, it doesn't make it any less satisfying to me. The motions are flowing. My body knows how to move before I can even register what it's doing.
There is a terrible scream that forces my eyes to open immediately. I am torn from my splendorous vision and the majesty of the gentle piano when Angeline clamorously stumbles from the mirror. Her breath is short and panicky like she's just seen a ghost.
"Angeline? Are you alright?" we all come to her aid.
"What's the matter?"
"I…I…." she begins to stand. "It's nothing. I must have just been seeing things, that's all. I have been pretty tired lately, staying after so late and all."
"What do you mean?"
"For a moment there… I felt like I was floating. I swear I was in a room full of people. I could almost hear the crowd chatting and smell something like a sweet burning scent, and some serious BO. But I wanted to scream, to cry even. And the next thing I know, I'm looking back at myself in the mirror, midway through a turn, and there are these black, raccoon eyes staring into my reflection from right over my shoulder. It was so strange. Like I wasn't there…but I know I was."
"Raccoon eyes? Like the Ancient Egyptians wore?"
"Y-yeah. Just like that, actually."
"Oh, don't be silly, Angeline. You're probably just so into your role that you imagined yourself as Sekherta. Don't be frightened, dear, it's only your brilliant mind becoming one with the dance."
"And like you said," Hayden smiles at his partner, "you've been working pretty hard lately. It's ok. Ever since getting the role of Pharaoh, sometimes I completely convince myself that there are actually little servant people there to do my homework for me."
"I don't think that's quite the same thing." I laugh.
"Thanks, you guys. You're probably right."
I smirk, wanting to laugh. Her brilliant mind is imagining herself to be Sekherta? Just what kind of stunt is she trying to pull? She's been working really hard? If anything, I bet she's trying to get Madame Thibeault to ease up on her- if it's possible to ease up any more. Madame Thibeault must sense my amusement in the matter and she shoots a strict glare at me. Her green eyes may not be ones for vision, but they can tear right through your soul. If one of her looks isn't enough to straighten you up, then that is a pretty impressive durability. I've seen Joey turned into an obedient little puppy under one of her glares!
"You all may leave. You've worked very hard today and I am proud."
"Thank you." said Summer, Hayden and Angeline. I'm about to untie my shoes when Madame Thibeault snaps at me.
"Not you, Tea. You still owe me twenty more T-kicks both left and right."
"What?"
"Bye, Tea." Angeline waves mockingly.
"Ugh." I somehow manage to stand up and swing up my legs for T-kicks.
I have to change quickly when I get home. I'm supposed to meet up with Yugi, Joey, and Tristan at the movies tonight. I've been promising them we can all hang out soon, just like we used to in the old days, but recently I have just been so busy. I had to keep blowing them off and every time I promised myself that it wouldn't happen again. Tonight I am determined to keep my promise. Besides, after all the stress of keeping my grades up, all my dance classes, and the job that I technically am not allowed to have until I graduate, I think I deserve a little break.
I miss my friends. I still see them at school, but it just isn't the same. We hardly ever hang out anymore, and I can honestly say that, for the most part, it's my fault.
My legs ache terribly, but I finally manage to slip into my favorite magenta leggings and brown faux-hiking boots. A car horn sings like a tenor just outside my bedroom window. Pulling away the girly curtains of my room, Joey and Tristan are waving at me with their goofy grins.
"Tea, your friends are here!" my mom calls.
"I know! I'll be down in a sec!"
I grab my denim jacket, clip the last of my accessories, and begin running out of my room when I am stopped by a laugh. A reverberating, almost malignant, and hardly noticeable chortle swings around the room. It's enough to capture my attention. I stand in the threshold for just a moment longer and then flick off my bedroom light. Maybe I'd hear it again as I scan around my room, in each corner, over the desk and on the bed. But there is nothing. So I shrug it off, turning back towards the hall and leave.
Tristan is the only one who can actually drive- legally, that is. While Joey does so illegally and Yugi just barely has his permit, I am the only one without a clue about driving. I sit in the back with Yugi in Tristan's Mercedes CLS. He likes to think he's quite the hot-shot when he's behind the wheel, even though we all know his father is just letting him borrow it. Tristan's real car is a broken down old pick-up.
"What took you so long, Tea?" Joey spins around in the front seat.
"Are you really sure you of all people should be complaining about others being late?"
"I'm never late, I'm just not a time."
Yugi and I share a look.
"Um, Joey, wouldn't that mean that you're still just…late?" Yugi, of course, tries to be gentle about the situation.
"Um…regardless! That still leaves my question unanswered, Tea."
"Oh, well, sorry guys. Ugh, my legs are just so sore, I guess it's really slowing me down. Madame Thibeault must have a grudge against me or something."
"What, that cranky, old ballet lady?"
"That's her alright."
"Yikes. I don't know why you even put up with her. I mean, come on, it's just ballet. What kind of training do you need to do that girly twirling and stuff?"
"It's not just ballet!" sometimes, I have to admit, Joey really gets on my last nerve. I know he doesn't mean to, and I still love him like a brother, but man he can be so insensitive sometimes.
"Ballet is an art, a story telling using only the enrapturing powers of the body. It's like poetry on the tips of your toes, or singing with your eyes, painting with slightest bend of the wrist. It takes a lot of hard work, endurance, and skill to dance ballet- especially with pointe shoes. Let's be honest, dancing on your toes is not natural. Serious deformations can come from ballet, I'll have you know. The only reason it looks so easy is because we've dedicated ourselves to getting it to that point. But, then again, what would you know about art?"
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"
"Actually," Yugi cuts in, "I think ballet is a very interesting way to tell a story. I mean, if you think about it, ballerinas are believed to be these elegant, innocent dancers, when in truth they are telling some of the most doleful, twisted tales. I think it takes an immense talent to portray all that and do so gracefully."
"Oh, don't tell me you're getting all sensitive too, Yugi. Men don't go to the ballet." Tristan shakes his head.
"Ignore them, Tea." Yugi smiles at me with his charming, violet eyes. "I know you work really hard learning all those dances, even with a strict teacher. I'd love to go to one of your shows one day. I'm sure you'll do great."
"I was hoping you'd say something like that."
"Hunh?"
"See, we're performing 'The Sands of Solipsism' for this year's Winter Traditional. It would mean a lot to me if you came to watch. That includes you, Joey and Tristan."
"But we're manly men. We don't go to the-"
"You're coming to the ballet!" I launch myself at Joey and pull at his ear.
"Alright, alright! Cool it, we'll go!"
I smirk victoriously when Yugi offers a small laugh.
"Stupid ballet…" Joey grumbles, slumping down into the leather of the seat.
"Forgive me, Tea, but what exactly is 'The Sands of Solipsism'?"
"Hm? Oh. Well, it's a tragic story that I think may help Yami remember some things about his past. It takes place in Ancient Egypt, during the reign of a pharaoh that historians simply can't put a name or a face to. It's supposed to be based on a true story told through hieroglyphics found somewhere buried in an unmarked tomb. This pharaoh had seven beautiful wives, all who were skilled in some manner or another, but they all fought with each other to become the Queen of Egypt. See, the pharaoh could only select one, but he just couldn't decide. One of his wives, a maligant seductress named Sekherta, takes it upon herself to enchant the pharaoh and make him choose her as queen. But little does she know, the pharaoh is actually in love with her own personal servant, her light-spirited handmaiden named Kemat.
Of course, Sekherta soon finds out and simply can't bear the disgrace in that. She does whatever she can to keep Kemat away from the pharaoh, sometimes beats her and bloodies her in the hopes that she won't be beautiful in the eyes of the pharaoh anymore. But Sekherta has a secret as well; her father, a nobleman named Harantatef, is the force driving darkness and fear into her all her life. Sekherta tries to win her father's affections and approval by ensuring the throne for herself, so she makes it her mission to kill all the pharaoh's other wives! But, in the process, she loses herself to the darkness and all that remained of her sanity is destroyed. Still, Kemat and the pharaoh meet in secret, each time falling deeper and deeper in love."
"How does it end?"
"Well, I don't want to give it all away. But let's just say that true love can be bloody, but never interred."
"Oh. Do you think the pharaoh in the story is the spirit of my Millennium Puzzle?"
"It could be. No one can name the pharaoh who is spoken of in the hieroglyphics from where the story was found. You never know. I'm certainly open to the possibility."
"Me too." Yugi nods. "I think that Yami will enjoy this ballet. It sounds very interesting."
"Great. I can cop you all free, if not lower priced tickets as soon as I can."
"Thanks, Tea!"
The theatre is almost filled when we arrive. Joey and Tristan are more than excited to see the film which they just had to get the midnight premier tickets for. It's a horror film, which I make sure to sit next to Yugi for. I know I'll be scared half way into the movie. I never had the stomach or the nerves for such things. It's called "Duel", about some duelist who goes around killing his opponents and turning them into duel monsters. The horrifying thing is that how they look when they die is how they'll look on the cards. I grip Yugi's hand whenever I am scared. Pathetic, I know. But, there are certain moments during the film when I think it is Yami's hand I am holding. Maybe Yugi is scared too and that's why. Either way, it's more than comforting to have them at my side.
Although The Sands of Solipsism is terrifying in its own elegant way, I don't think I'm as frightened by it as I am by this movie because there is no blood in ballet.
Or, at least, there shouldn't be.
I understand most of you are not ballerinas and may not even be interested in ballet. That's cool. Therefore, we also understand that there will be some things in this story like a 'tour en seconde' and 'fouettes' that you may not comprehend. Don't worry. We will try do our best and explain later. Do keep in mind that youtube is also a good reference.
