The Reason Behind the Delay of This Chapter:

Me + Finals Weeks + Weeks of Stress Leading Up To The Actually Tests AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

;D

I just notice that the link to the pic didn't work last time, so I'll try and post it in my bio!

Love you all-

Pax

The passages behind the stage were ominous and dark. I was not usually afraid of being alone in the shadows; however, a small shiver rolled up and down my spine as I stole, as quietly as I could manage, down the empty halls. A sense of uneasiness had trailed after me since I had left the safety of the stage ten minutes before. Although I believed myself rather childish to think of such things, I felt strangely as though I was being watched by a pair of unseen eyes.

I had awoken this morning, feeling refreshed and a great deal less tired than I had in many a month. The aches in my legs and back had faded overnight, to be replaced by only a dull throb when I walked. It was a wonder what a single night in a warm bed could do for sore bones.

Glancing down, I admired the light pink pointe shoes, each with a matching ribbon, that I wore on my feet. They had once belonged to Meg Giry, but, as she had told me, she had hardly used them.

"I bought those about three years ago," the dancer had said this morning as she pulled the flats from her trunk in the ballet dormitory, "but my feet grew too big for them and I needed a new pair before I'd finished with them."

Meg extended her hand and their burden, and I silently excepted watching as she flipped a strand of lovely, yellow hair over her shoulder and continued to dig through the chest. My heart gave a slight pang of envy; I should have greatly wished to have blonde hair.

"Ah! Here it is!"

I awoke from my reverie as a mass of white fabric was thrust under my nose.

"Voilà! It fits you perfectly!"

And that too was cast into my arms. Shifting the pointe shoes into the crook of my elbow, I used my hands to hold up the frock. It was a dancer's garment complete with a fine muslin skirt and bodice. Meg smiled and placed her hands on her hips.

"You'll be a coryphée in no time. You do sing, don't you? I heard you were very good."

I felt my cheeks burn, and had opened my mouth to deflect the praise, and also to ask what exactly a "coryphée" was, when I noticed movement out of the corner of my vision. Turning, I saw Mme. Giry, the ballet mistress, standing in the doorway, cane in hand. She was a very imposing woman, demanding one's respect without saying so much as a word, and I could not deny that I was a bit frightened of the stick she carried.

"Do those fit, then?" She asked, her voice brusque.

Realizing that I had quite forgotten my manners, I quickly sank into a curtsey, lowering my head to hide my glowing features.

"You needn't bow," she said, the tone of her words softening, "We're all family in the corps."

I straightened, feeling unsure what to do. Mme. Giry's sharp eyes fell onto the pile in my hands.

"Put those on. Meg will help you," Placing a hand on the door frame, she looked back at her daughter, "Come to the stage when you've finished."

After the elder Giry quit the room, Meg turned to me.

"Take off your boots. I'll help you with the dress."

It was a strange thing having someone to assist me with dressing. Yet, I could not honestly say that it didn't make the process move faster and much easier. Soon I stood in nothing more then my chemise and corset; both wore very tatty and I felt a small surge of embarrassment. Meg, however, either took no notice or simply chose not to, for which I was thankful.

"I'm going to have to tighten this." She told me hesitantly, referring to my corset. I nodded, support my weight on a bed post.

"I ought to have made it tighter this morning," I said softly, "but it's kind of… what I mean is tying it by… well, by yourself can be a little awkward…"

I felt her undo the knot at the bottom and she gave the laces a small but firm tug. I took a deep breath, held it, and closed my eyes. When she reached the ties midway down my back, Meg spoke.

"If you'd like I could come in the morning and give you a hand…"

I peeked over my shoulder. She looked up and smiled, before administering another yank to the strings. I gasped faintly and winced.

"Tell me if it's too tight. I don't want you fainting on me…"

Quirking the corner of my mouth and shook my head.

"It's fine. And…and it'd be nice if you would tie it for me… but only if you have time… and only if you want to…"

Meg fixed the laces together at the bottom of the corset and held the dress out to me, eyes sparkling.

"I'd be glad to."

I paused for a moment, then the muscles on my face curved, straining from disuse, into a smile.

Apparently, I had found a friend in Meg Giry.

A cool draft swirled about my bare legs. I shivered and hurried down the corridor, spotting my room at the end. I was absolutely exhausted. After getting dressed, Meg and I had gone to meet with Mme. Giry, and the pair of them had spent the greater part of the afternoon teaching me the basic ballet movements I would need to remember as a dancer.

Demi plié, grande jeté, grande plié, arebesque, tondue…

I ran over what I learned as I closed the door behind me, and leaned against it with a sigh. When Mme. Giry had felt I'd done enough for one day, she had placed one hand on my shoulder and the other under my chin.

"You did very well today." she told me, "You are on your way to becoming a great dancer, Marie de Voisins."

Then she patted my cheek gently and, flipping her long braid over one shoulder, she turned and pointed me in the direction of the dormitories with her cane.

"Go and find Meg. She will get you something to eat."

I had paused and looked nervously up at the ballet mistress.

"With all do respect, Madame…" I said, "I would like to simply go back to my room and rest."

Mme. Giry watched me for a moment with prying eyes. Then she nodded, straightening her brooch absently.

"Whatever you like." Was all she had said.

Opening my eyes, I noticed for the first time since I had entered the room that the fire was blazing in the hearth. Frowning slightly, I moved forward and gazed at the dancing flames. It had been over five hours; how could they still burning? Feeling too tired to really mind, I moved to sit, but again froze.

On the sofa where I had slept last night there was a small pile that was not mine. Looking around but seeing no one I reached down. There were two pale blue pillows, stacked neatly, resting beside a large, white blanket; I grasped the latter in my trembling hand, and silently marveled at how soft and heavy. It would surely be very warm. Gently placing it back, I took hold of one of the cushions and let out a small sigh of delight. It was made a gloriously smooth material, like woven water. I brought it up to my cheek; it felt wonderfully sleek and cool against my skin and smelled faintly of a flower I couldn't place.

Sitting heavily beside the blanket, I noticed something white fall to the floor. Removing the pillow from my face, I saw that it was a nightdress, and I bent to pick it up. It was not made of the same glossy fabric as the cushions, but of soft cotton. At last something I recognize… I thought dully. It had short sleeves, lined with delicate lace and the neck line was interwoven with a small, pink ribbon.

Tears pricked my eyes as I gazed dumbly at the gown. Who had done this? And why? Standing, I looked about for a note but found none. Could it have been Meg? No, she and her mother had been with me all afternoon. And besides, why would they secretly leave things for me in my room? Who else could it have been? The managers perhaps? M. Garnier or M. Amaud? The first I ruled out; he was entirely too businesslike, but M. Amaud? He was kindly enough… but I'd hardly met him!

Feeling a bout of dizziness come over me, I sat again. There had been no note; maybe whoever left these wished to remain a secret? Pleasure bubbled in my stomach and a small smile broke over my face. Whoever they were they had made me very happy.

I had spent the better half of the night digging through the masses of objects, both strange and common, that I had acquired over the years of my life. There must be something here that would please her… And when I came upon a pair of silken pillows and an old goose-down eiderdown, stored with a sachet of lavender I immediately knew they would do.

Just after dawn, I slipped, quiet as a shadow, from L'Opera and into the city. I found tasteful shop, quickly bartered with the tailor and before the rest of the Parisian world stirred in their beds I was creeping back through the Rue Scribe entrance, a parcel under my arm. I paused only for a moment to gather my things and then was off again through the hidden passageways of the cellars.

The dear little thing had awaken in late morning, an easy three hours after I settled behind the mirror. She had blinked sweetly and stretched, then settled back as if to sleep once more, but a knock had come upon the door. It was young Giry and the pair of them left, after a moment, for the ballet dormitories.

The mechanism that opened the mirror was rusty from disuse; I would have to oil it. Lingering on the threshold for moment, I took a deep, cleansing breath, then entered the room for the first time in years. It was not as painful as I thought it might have been, but I could not deny I felt something surge inside my abdomen. Perhaps I should not be doing this… My thoughts, however, then returned to the sleepy face, framed by soft curls, that had greeted me ten minutes prior and I continued as planned, setting the pillows neatly on the récamier and placing the eiderdown beside them. I unwrapped the parcel, and took out the dainty nightdress I had purchased that morning, holding it out and admiring my choice. It was made of soft, finely woven cotton, the cap sleeves and portrait neckline framed with delicately beaded organza lace; the final touch was the pink, satin ribbon threaded through the collar.

Nodding, and feeling thoroughly pleased with the selection, I folded it and put it on top of the eiderdown. Then, after placing another log on the fire, I moved back through the mirror. Now, where was the path to the ballet dormitories?...

Erik! You peeping tom! XD Feedback?