The first time that she had danced, she'd only been ten years old. As was common with beginners, she had lacked the grace and poise of her more experienced counterparts. She'd enjoyed the lessons, for they were challenging to her physically in a way that her normal studies would never allow for. Her father never took that into consideration. As it was with anything that concerned his daughter, he only saw her lack of talent as just another way that she'd failed him.
She'd watched wordlessly as her dancing instructor was sent away, only half-listening as her father told her that she was never to dance again.
That night, when the moon was high and the last light went out, she snuck out into the courtyard...and she danced.
~2~
Late at night, when she thought no one else was awake, she danced.
She never knew the reason as to why she snuck did it, nor understood what exactly caused her body's clumsy movements to vanish. There was never any music to guide her feet, no rhythm to dictate the motioning of her hands, for she danced to music that only she could hear.
No one knew of her nocturnal activities, least of all her father. She knew that such an activity would have been outlawed immediately if he found out; she also knew that when it came to her dancing, she would never listen to any rules or dictates he would attempt to lay down. She would disobey without any hesitation; her midnight ballets had become too much a part of her for her to give it up now. Still, keeping her dancing a secret was a double-edged sword: no one knew about it, and because of that, there was no one there to join her under the light of the waxing and waning moon.
She didn't know why she wanted a dancing partner; the only reason she could think of was...she didn't want to dance alone.