Thanks for the review Priestess of Anubis!
And Sorry this chapter is a bit short. There's nothing else really to say.
Enjoy!
MaskedDreamer
Chapter Six: Found
One two three four, one two three four, one two three four. . .
The beat of the song Loralee was currently dancing to filled her mind and she couldn't help but hum along. It was too tiring to actually sing while dancing but at least humming let her feel more challenged. And she loved that feeling.
She had been dancing for the past few hours, her night gown now sticking to her sweaty body, her legs cramping up. But she kept going. She kept dancing and dancing. If she fell down, she got back up quickly and kept on moving. It seemed as if that she danced to live - as if when she'd stop, she'd die.
Of course that's not true, though. Loralee was just dancing because she had never felt such energy. Perhaps it was the fact that she now perfected every single dance in the newest Opera, down to the last finger position.
One two three four, one two three four, one two three-
"AAH!"
Half way through a spin, Loralee caught sight of something, or more like someone, in the mirror. She lost focus and went toppling over and onto the ground, luckily not hurting any part of her body in the process. She got up quickly and turned towards the now clapping person in the door way.
"Very well done, Mademoiselle Donoghue!
There was only two people at the Opera house who knew her true identity, and the black dress and long braided hair told Loralee which one of the people it was.
"M-Madame Giry?" she said, clearly startled and embarrassed at the ballet mistress's sudden entrance. Madame Giry only smiled warmly.
"You are a very talented dancer, Loralee. Why didn't you try out for the vacant place in the corps de ballet instead of the open space in the chorus?"
"I was a forced to take Natalia William's place in trying out. Meg found me running away from. . . from you know who."
"Ah, I see," Madame Giry said, slowly walking towards Loralee, leaning on her black staff. Only now did Loralee see how Madame Giry was rather frail and weak. Old age was slowly catching up to her.
"This won't do," she said more to herself than to Loralee as she fingered the skinny sleeve of Loralee's dress. As she did so her hand accidentally brushed over one of Loralee's scars. Out of reflexes, Loralee drew back, crossing her hands over her chest and slouching as if some one was about to hit her. Madame Giry only sighed in slight annoyance but also in understanding.
"It's okay. I won't hurt you." Loralee still kept her arms crossed. "It's really all right. I've. . . I've had some experiences with scars and marks on the body, so I'm used to them."
Loralee stared at her.
"You mean to say, you also have scars?"
"Oh, heavens no! Not me!" Madame Giry said, shaking her head negatively. "No. It was actually. . ." she thought for the right words. "A boy I met when I was a girl. He was treated harshly for the scars he wasn't able to hide from the public. He would have died from beatings if it hadn't been for me. I saved him and. . . and gave him shelter. He grew up, his scars still being a problem in his life." She looked away from Loralee, face not readable. "They still are."
Loralee looked at her, eyes full of understanding and pity for the man who's soul was in possession of such horrors.
"How did he come to bare such. . . damnable things?" she asked before she could stop herself.
"He was born with them, although he did get some more scars from his brutal life as a boy." She shook her head and Loralee blinked to keep back tears that suddenly wanted to come out.
"I shouldn't have told you that. He's. . . He's quite touchy and, well, frightening when it comes to his scars. Forget everything I told you. Can you promise me that?"
Loralee nodded, knowing she never would. She only wanted to make Madame Giry forget about her mistakes quickly.
"Good!" Madame Giry said, a small smile creeping onto her face. "Now, where in the world did you get those pointe shoes?"
Busted! Loralee thought.
Her face immediately went red and she started stuttering gibberish, trying to find an excuse to make her innocent. Madame Giry only raised an eye brow.
"It's all right, Loralee. You may keep them seeing as you've already almost worn a hole in that one." She pointed to Loralee's right foot. "Perhaps some day you and Meg can go out and get some shoes."
Just the thought of stepping out into the public frightened Loralee beyond belief, but Madame Giry didn't seem to notice. Instead she slammed her staff down on the ground and walked away.
"Now Loralee, I'd like to see your skills of a ballerina. Starting from the third scene's ballet then?"
Glad to be away from the uncomfortable talk, Loralee willingly got into her opening position. After Madame Giry tapped out the beat, she went off, twirling, spinning, and jumping, doing the whole performance perfectly.
Only after she landed in her final position did Madame Giry show her favor of the dance by clapping.
"Bravo! Bravo, my dear Mademoiselle Donoghue! If my corps de ballet members danced half as good as you, we'd be better than ever!"
Loralee blushed at the compliment and bowed her head.
"Thank you, Madame," she stated simply yet still able to show her appreciation.
The next hour Madame Giry spent watching Loralee dance all the dances in the Opera. She only fixed a few of Loralee's moves but the rest she claimed were flawless. Loralee couldn't help but throw her arms around Madame Giry and hug her when she called Loralee a true master at ballet.
"I'm quite glad I found you here," Madame Giry claimed after Loralee had detached herself from her body. "Other wise, I would have never found you dancing."
"How did you know I was here?" Loralee asked.
"Oh, I didn't know you were specifically in this very room. I only knew you were some where out doing mischief."
"But how?" Loralee asked, stunned at the ballet Mistress's grand knowledge of the Opera Populaire. Of her life!
"Meg came to me claiming something was going on with you and that must be running out some where during the night. She claimed that every day you get more tired looking and she also knew you were lying when you said nothing was wrong with you. Thus, with all the evidence that you were up to something, my dear Meg sent me abroad like a hound dog to sniff out the Opera House and find you and your mischievous doings." She sighed, smiling slightly. "Oh, what would my life be like without Meg?"