A/N: First of all, thank you all so so much for all of your lovely reviews! You all made me feel so much better about posting this. I was so worried that this story wouldn't be interesting enough, but I feel so much more confident now! I truly hope you all enjoy this chapter! I apologize that there isn't much conversation in this chapter, but it should get better by the next one!
The grand staircase was truly Titanic's crowning glory that displayed a true opulence in any form of travel anyone had ever witnessed before. It was at a grand high level Odette would have expected only royalty to be at. Constructed from polished oak, wrought iron, and an assortment of boutique glass, the magnificent staircase was situated below a beautiful dome that gave an excellent illusion of natural light at any hour of the day. Even now at nine o'clock at night, the dome illuminated a soft, elegant glow from the stars and moon above which mixed beautifully with the synthetic lighting along the walls.
Odette took in a slow, settling breath, her mind focusing on nothing but her hands on the oak railing at the top of the staircase. Twirling, frilly dresses and expensive suits of the first class passengers all mingled about the ballroom at the foot of the staircase, reminding Odette faintly of a pulsating rainbow, though their colors would surely have paled in comparison to such a thing. The colors of the first class all blurred together into thick, non identifiable clusters and it made her feel ill and light-headed. Or, perhaps she was simply becoming seasick.
The Titanic had continued its voyage only an hour before, departing from Cherbourg harbor at precisely eight-ten. In the time it took her to catch her footing onboard, Clovis set Simone and an unfamiliar steward to usher Odette to her room to change into her finest evening gown. According to her husband, news about her presence on this ship had spread much like wildfire amongst the French passengers, so much so that the Captain of the Titanic himself had requested her presence at his dinner table.
Odette had been expecting this much, though she had little idea everything would be happening this quickly. She had longed for this voyage for many weeks now, daydreaming that the slow path of the gigantic ship would lull her fast-paced world if even for a mere six days. Now she saw that nothing had changed and she thought herself quite foolish for believing anything of the sort. Now, in under the hour it took for her to take her first step onto the grand Titanic, Odette found herself locked in arm with her husband, ready to meet the Captain at his table.
Odette had little time to pick through her suitcases for the proper attire to attend such a dinner, and she was happy that her finest dresses had been packed in her ratted case, despite her husband's displeasure with this choice. Even with her clumsy encounter with the First Officer, her dresses were clear of muck and nearly perfect from any wrinkles. At first, she was to simply choose whatever dress was on top and be done with it. She had been dreading this dinner since the moment Clovis had revealed the boarding tickets to her, and she felt far too pained in the head to bother putting much effort in her image. As long as she was dressed up enough to please Clovis, she would be settled with that. However, when Odette had picked up the first dress from her case, her initial annoyance with the evening had completely melted away in an instant. Although the dress within her hands was quite lovely with its vibrant yellow fabric and pearly beading, it was the blue dress beneath that caught her eye.
It was the same dress the First Officer had folded for her. She hadn't a clue as to how it had emerged so near the top of her case, but there it was; the robin's egg blue taffeta all but gleaming from the mass of colors it rested upon. It was off the shoulder with a sweetheart neckline, perhaps a bit too revealing for a dinner with the Captain, though the decor would take away one's gaze from any indecency. She knew instantly that this would be her dress for the night.
Soft pleating at the side hips in a lovely ecru Chantilly lace draped over the bodice and skirt. There were more than four layers of beaded and lace fabrics layered along the bodice and up the gentle blue ribbon corset back. Flowered lace ran down the sleeves that draped freely at the elbow, providing movement unrestricted. It was quite elegant and lovely, although it was the object on the front of the bodice that was clearly the centerpiece. It was a large rhinestone brooch of a shimmering silver flower with a lustrous blue topaz stone in the shape of a teardrop as its center.
Once Odette had chosen her dress, Simone went to work re-dressing her and fixing her hair completely different from her day style. Since it was already late into the evening and there was no sun to darken her skin, Odette was able to convince Simone not to bother with a hat. Though, she was unable to change the young maid's mind over her hair. Odette's long, dark locks were twisted rather harshly between Simon's bony fingertips, tugged and flattened tightly back into elegant braids that wound around the back of her head in a thick clump. The mass of her hair was kept up by a thick multitude of hairpins while the angel hairs that were too short for the braids were quickly curled and left to dangle, framing along her wide, almost heart-shaped face, around her small ears that pointed ever so slightly outward, and down the back of her freckled neck. In a sense, Odette felt very much like a China doll, especially with the deep burgundy color that painted her lips, causing her ghostly skin to all but illuminate in the dim lighting.
As the young woman stood so highly at her husband's side now, she found a revolting humor in the entire situation at hand. She had not wanted to get so dressed up for this occasion. In all honesty, there was no reason to be so finely dressed other than for the pleasure of the man at her side. After all, there was an image that must be upheld. Still, it was a drag having to constantly display this image, and now that her grand entrance was made their first night aboard the Titanic, there would be no changing it in risk of their reputation. The fault was all due to her split second change of heart in her choice of dress - a dress that reminded her of the blue held within the eyes of a Titanic officer she would never speak to again, and it made her grimace inwardly. Foolish, indeed.
There was a tug on her arm and Odette was brought back from her wandering thoughts, the fuzzy clouds of color quickly changing back into the bodies of the people below her perch. "Come, dove," Clovis said as his free hand brushed through his slick hair, "wouldn't want to keep our company waiting, now, would we?" He tried taking his first step down the staircase, yet Odette resisted.
"I want to see the departure." She wasn't sure why she had said what she did, but the words fled from her throat without any passing thought of her own. It hadn't even been a good excuse to be late for dinner, but she could think of nothing else that could possibly delay the inevitable.
Clovis showed no obvious sign that he had noticed her resistance as he gave a bright smile and wave to a passing couple. "We departed an hour ago, darling, it's far too late for that," he hissed through tight lips.
"I would like to see France one last time."
"Well, you wouldn't see much of anything by now, I'd assume. Come along."
"Clovis, you promised me," Odette bit back. She didn't raise her voice, she didn't send him a nasty glare or rip her hand from his grasp, but it was most certainly a challenge.
Finally, Clovis regarded the woman completely. Though his face was perfectly smooth without a wrinkle of worry, Odette saw the slight rounding of his eyes and knew he was taken aback by her opposition. He stared at her for a long moment. With each passing second, Odette could feel his flame setting her neck and cheeks ablaze and she instinctively bowed her head, her feet shifting uncomfortably as her own fire was snuffed out. Then, Clovis laughed. The sound startled the girl and she had to force her twitching muscles not to flinch away from the sound of imitated ebullience.
"As my wife, you will do better to not address me in such a manner," he said in a joking tone, though Odette was only further stressed by the words. Clovis beamed his handsome, perfect grin and he began to guide her down the stairs once again. This time, she did not refuse him. "But, as a husband," he continued with a sigh, "I suppose I'll escort you to the deck after dinner. After all, I am nothing if not a man of my word."
With that said, there was no room for Odette to argue any further even if she had wished to. The conversation was over. Clovis tightened both arms around her own and they set off down the staircase once more. As they reached the ballroom floor, Odette hardly noticed the people at all who parted their way for her, the hall steadily growing quiet if not for the newfound murmuring. She could feel the eyes of a hundred people all peering curiously upon her small form all at once, watching every single shallow breath she took. Her head remained lowered, even as her husband basked in the presence of their awed audience.
They easily passed around the staircase and headed through the Reception Area, not stopping until they finally reached the Dining Hall. Once through the doors, Odette forced herself to hold her head high. It would do her no good at all to look like some miserable, beaten mongrel trailing after its owner. This situation could have been far worse than meeting the Captain of the ship they sailed upon. Yes, it was a great inconvenience to her, but she knew this would happen one way or another. At least now, she told herself, she could get it over with and be done.
When Odette saw the Dining Hall, she had only one thought cross her mind; the first-class passengers certainly dined in style. The dining room was long and seemed to span the full width of the ship, decorated in Louis XIV style and had floor to ceiling paneling in French light brown walnut. Specially mounted ornaments and moldings gave a regal effect by use of candle-style lamps that hung in the center of the panels. Plain silk curtains covered the large bay windows that gave an incredible feeling of spaciousness.
Near the center of the room was a single long mahogany table. Along either side were a dozen or so finely dressed men and at the far end of the table was the Captain.
It was almost blindingly apparent who he was. With double-breasted, ten brass buttons and two large golden medals along an almost black uniform, the white of his Starline cap and curly great beard stuck out amongst the crowd like a single star in the night. Once he took notice of Odette and Clovis, the elderly man stood from his seat and ushered with a waving hand to the two empty seats to his right. "Welcome, welcome!" he greeted boisterously, causing the rest of the table to also stand and wave, showing their due respect. To Odette, this only displayed power - whether or not it was initially intended to.
When he was near enough to do so, Clovis took the Captain's hand within his own and the two men shook with great robustness. "Ah, good evening, Captain Smith," Clovis gushed smoothly. "So fine of you to delight my wife and I with a seat at your table!"
"It was no trouble at all for the grandson of Clément Anouilh, founder of Anouilh's L'acier de l'Ouest," the Captain, then, turned his attention to Odette, "as well as la Star de France herself, Madame Odette Baudelaire." He offered her his hand and she took it.
"The pleasure is mine," she bowed slightly, curtsying. "Your French is quite well spoken." The man thanked her and placed a kiss against her knuckles. From the twinkle held within his eye, Odette concluded to herself that, although his presence was stern and demanded respect as a Captain should, he was a good-hearted man. Captain Smith seated the woman and then her husband. One he took his own seat, the rest of the table followed suit.
Odette felt much like royalty with how the Captain and his men treated her. Even Clovis showed her off much like a purebred pony at a show. It was odd and it made her feel rather repulsed by it all. She was nothing special and she did not deserve such fine treatment.
As they seated, the men indulged themselves in conversation almost at once. There was not a single topic as it seemed everyone had their own story to tell and worked to tell it first. It was all nothing more than a garbled, confusing mess that caused the woman's head to ache. Odette passed a glance down the length of the table, her green eyes searching for anyone she herself could speak to. Her face fell once she realized that she was the only woman at the table. The men themselves seemed to be officers, all of which conversed easily and jauntily about themselves much like squawking birds. It would have been indecent of a woman such as her to speak to any one of them. Besides, there wasn't much contribution she could have added to their talk anyhow. The only men she was free to speak with is her husband and the Captain, though they were fully submerged in a conversation of steel and iron. Odette was aware that her husband's company had supplied many of the steel workings for the Titanic, yet she didn't know just how much conversation could come from that small fact. The subject was tiring and confusing to the woman and she didn't try and force any interest. Instead, she placed her attention to the extravagant Chilean sea bass on her plate.
Odette kept her back straight and proper, though the grip on her fork was limp between her fingers and she lazily picked and prodded at her meal. She was the least bit interested in eating anything. Odette wished for nothing more than to return to her room and sleep the rest of the night off, though she knew she could never excuse herself in such a way. A soft, quieted sigh passed by her lips, her eyes trained on the fork prongs as she stabbed a small bit of fish. She brought up the dainty bite to her lips, her eyes fluttering up unconsciously. Suddenly, she took in a sharp intake of breath and she nearly choked.
Sitting directly across from her was the First Officer. It had never occurred to her that she might see him again, let alone find him seated before her at a dinner table. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of the possibility of him accompanying their dinner that night or how she could have missed him during her initial viewing of the table, and the sight of him nearly sent her to the floor. But, there he was; the handsome First Officer of the Titanic watching her with a raised brow and flattened lips.
Odette caught herself very quickly, settling her nerves by clearing her throat and repositioning the napkin in her lap. "Good evening, Officer," she spoke flatly, her eyes glued back to her plate. It wouldn't be considered too improper to greet a man she had already spoken previously with, right?
"Good evening, Madam Anouilh," he said in turn, his blue eyes flickering to his own plate of food. He seemed relaxed and casual, though it didn't go unnoticed by her the way his shoulders squared and his fingers tensed. "Has your baggage been repaired?"
"I'm afraid not," she took another small bite, though she did not take the time to taste the elegant meal. The two were silent for a long moment after that. What could they possibly say? In the back of her mind, Odette knew that this should have been the natural conclusion to their interaction. There simply was nothing more to say. However, she found herself still wanting to say more. This was the only other man she would have been allowed to converse with, but what was there to discuss? "My name is Odette, by the way."
The moment she said her name aloud, she felt a heat rise to her cheeks. What an imprudent statement. What would this man gain from having her name? The man paused, his fork of food halting in midair. His eyes flashed to her own and, for the first time, she saw him smile a true smile. It was small, nothing too obvious by any onlooker, but she quickly decided she liked this smile. She felt it was solely meant for her alone, and she was glad to have witnessed such a thing. "Lovely name, Madam."
Obette's eyes darted back down to her plate, her lips slowly spreading into her own beaming grin. She even had to bite her lip to keep herself from smiling too widely and showing her teeth. Her lips parted once more, the request of his own name lingering on the tip of her tongue, but she was curtly cut off by a tight grip against the hand that laid along her lap. Clovis had taken her within his grasp, though when she looked at his face, he didn't seem to be paying her any mind at all. His attention was still to the Captain, a pleasantly prideful look accompanying his features. Still, the mere thought that his hand against her own meant something more made her inwardly recoil back within herself. She hadn't done anything wrong, she merely gave an acquaintance her name, and yet she still quieted herself from speaking any further.
Suddenly, Odette found herself being risen from her seat by Clovis. He was still speaking with the Captain and she was only able to capture the last bit of his rambling sentence. "She has been working diligently on this piece - a true masterpiece! No one has ever claimed to see such a performance before!" Before she realized what was happening, Odette was being led from the Dining Room, through the Reception Hall, and back to the ballroom.
The realization of what she was meant to do came upon her, then. She had been preparing for this, of course. She knew that, one way or another, she would be performing before the first class passengers. For weeks she had been perfecting and meliorating for this very moment, and now that she was here, she wanted to run. Odette wanted to push Clovis away and run away as far as her feet could take her, but she didn't. Instead, Odette simply took her small, mindful steps forward.
The crowd parted for her, making way for her lonely path. Just like before, all eyes were locked on only her. The passengers pushed their way along the walls, making a circled stage all of Odette's own. She faintly thought it as a grassy meadow amongst a forest of dead trees and it nearly brought a sneer to her gorgeous face. Odette took in a deep breath, stood on the tips of her toes, and raised her hands above her head. The room went silent.
Ballet can be described as formalized actions of a dancer that follows specific rules regarding the positions of the arms, feet, and body. Ballet choreography is based on combinations of these strict fundamental movements. But to Odette, it was different. It was... freedom. Odette absorbed the smell of sophistication in the ballroom and the taste of her own practiced certitude, her mind fogged with a numbing sensation as she balanced her dainty form upon her toes. Her arms bent slightly at the elbows, every one of her fingers pointed precisely as her dulled green eyes fluttered shut.
Odette slowly lowered her hands to her sides and around her back, her fingertips nearly touching from behind her slim form, then forward and back above her head. As though it had been choreographed as so, the band started up in near beautiful time with her dancing. Her torso swayed back and forth in tune with her arms in a single, fluid movement. Her elbows gracefully swam through the free air in sync with her feet as she pointed her right leg and leaped. To everyone in the ballroom, it seemed perfect. To Odette, something was wrong. She felt… heavy, like her limbs were being weighed down and she had to fight to move at all. Nothing of this situation felt like freedom...
As soon as her toes caught her weight, Odette spun in a tight circle with her left foot flexed against her right thigh, only coming down for a split second to propel her spinning form. Her arms oscillated above her face as she leaned back her head. Odette swished both her body and arms forward and back again, far and reaching, arching her back so far that her hands grazed the floor beneath her. This final, unthoughtful movement seemed to hold her, dragging her down into a dark abyss unfolding. Odette inched further and further down, the gaping hole ready to swallow up her small form entirely, and she wondered if she should bother resisting anymore…
Her audience erupted into applause and Odette stood. The crowd pulsated, caving in around the young woman. She felt a rough arm cuff around her shoulders, startling her into taking a breath. Only now did she realize she wasn't breathing, and now that the rate of her breath was apparent, her lungs grew rapid and desperate for air. Clovis's booming laughter rang in her eardrums as he leaned his weight against her and her legs shook and trembled. The atmosphere around her was hot and her skin began to burn. She had to get out of here.
Odette interrupted Clovis and the Captain in their praise and excused herself to the restroom. She pushed her way through the crowd. There was no clear path for her now and she wondered if she would ever make it through the rumbling voices and reaching limbs. Everything was closing in around her and she wanted to yell. This scream boiled deep inside her chest and bubbled up into her throat, trampling over her tongue and raging to be heard. Then, she emerged out of the crowd. She was right at the bottom of the staircase. Odette didn't know where she was going, but she rushed the stairs instantly, taking the steps two at a time. Finally, Odette was allowing her feet to carry her as far away as they could, but it was in vain. There was only so far she could go on a boat, after all. Even if this was the splendid Ship of Dreams. Still, she all but ran down the corridors, a single thought ranging in her head.
Odette had to see the departure.