(4,351 words. I think this is the longest one (Nyan)) Sadly I have another assignment to do and will have to stop updating stories until it's done. But don't worry, I'll try to be fast and get it done so no one will get annoyed by no updates. I've updated a story everyday this week, I'll do it once more tomorrow and then I've successfully gone through one loop in five days (I stopped writing one of my stories since I'm going to re-write it anyway soon.) If any one's interested, on sunday I wrote a cute little ffXIII oneshot, it's Hope/Light cause I was bored. Anyway, enjoy the third chapter I wrote with partially writers block.

Disclaimer: I no own ffXIII

Dance against the wind

Chapter 3: Escape

Claire had stayed under the shade of the trees for around an hour after her mother had left. Her paradise had been shattered, if her mother knew about this place then when she went here again if she was unlucky enough for her mother to remember this place then she could easily send her daughter back to the house. How sad it was that her childhood hiding place was now ruined.

The party would start soon, and she knew whether she went or not she would get yelled at, for either not attending or for not acting like a woman of her status. So basically for the usual things. She couldn't escape it no matter what, her mother couldn't stand her daughter not acting the way she wanted her too.

She sighed and got up from the stone bench, brushing a leaf from her hair while doing so. She would have to leave now if she wanted to suffer through the least amount of angry yelling her mother and the servants, who as well hated her, would dish out on her. She lifted up the ends of her burgundy dress above the tips of the grass and walked back to the house. she passed by two young slaves watering lilies near the wooden bridge connecting the field to the courtyard; Before she crossed that bridge herself. They gave her a disapproving look, they had been convinced by the words of the older people in this house and had been made to have a dislike for the master's older daughter.

As she passed through the courtyard she saw a grey haired slave looking at her from a window give a worse look then the two before, signaling to someone who was hidden behind the velvet curtain. Claire didn't care about it, the looks she received at the moment were nothing more than the usual. She walked across the cold grey stones closer to the double doors that would allow entrance back into the grand halls of her house. As she lowered her hand to the golden doorknob the door swung open before her and Butterfly McQueen stood at the other side with an expression a mix of flustered and angry.

"Miss Claire, Madam Farron's party begins in an hour!" Her high pitched voice announced,

"And look at you! such a mess, Madam shall be so angry. We have to get you fixed up now!"

She took grasp of Claire's arm and quickly pulled her along the halls, heading to upstairs where she could get the older girl fixed up. She tried tugging against the small girl's pull but the pace she was forcible moving at hindered the attempts. She didn't look it but Butterfly was a fast girl, and she had learnt to have a good grasp from all her dealings with Claire in the past. So she was made to give up in the end, about the time when they reached the staircase.

They passed by Serah's room which she could guess was in there as well getting the same treatment that she was about to get. The difference would be that her sister must have been nearly done at the moment, and she wouldn't have to get any mud off of her; Claire's feet had been covered with it, behind them slaves cleaned it off the floor. They'd been put into overdrive for today, Madam Farron would notice even the tiniest of mistakes, they had to make sure it was perfect for tonight.

When they'd gotten to Claire's room, Butterfly had gotten another girl to assist her in getting the master's daughter ready. The girl, who she honestly had no idea who they were got some water and started to clean mud of her feet. Butterfly mentioned constantly how she was amazed that she hadn't gotten any on her dress, said it seemed impossible that she could get her feet so dirty and be fine everywhere else. Claire resisted the urge to roll her eyes from how simple the answer was, all she'd simply done was lift up the dress. But she kept her mouth closed for now. She was in a bad mood and her annoyance would be clear in her voice, she'd never been one for hiding it. She at least made the attempt to keep the ones that had serious negative opinions of her as small as she could if she had the right moment to do so.

Butterfly was brushing back her hair strongly taking out the multitude of knots it had been delivered today from a nap on a stone bench. It hurt with each time the brush went through the blondish-pink waves, but Claire forced herself not to voice her annoyance, or cause the physical harm she wanted to cause either. She'd actually rather scare these two out of their minds then let them continue with this, and she didn't even see any point in doing that at all. It proved just how little she cared for all of this. Butterfly forced the hair to the back of her neck instead of letting it hang on her shoulder like it always did. Another thing to irk her, she didn't like her hair like that, it was how her mother thought it looked best. That was why she'd started to keep it on the side.

As she had gotten older, Claire had given up trying to please her mother, it was an impossible task for someone like her. Eventually she'd gotten into the habit of finding things that would get on her mothers nerves, to make her peeved on purpose. She still hadn't realised it was on purpose, she acted like her daughter was making mistakes about things because of how she was rather than the actual truth she wasn't smart enough to notice. Because of her mother's attention to detail, the slightest of things could become objects of plain annoyance for her. And Claire wearing her hair on the side had become one of them.

Unfortunately Butterfly agreed with her mother on certain things, and so that was why her hair was being put up the way her mother preferred it. And to make Claire even more bugged about all this, she pinned it up with a purple ribbon tied into a bow. she hated bows, they were a Serah type thing, not for her.

After the other girl had finished cleaning up the mud she had started putting makeup on her. Which she truly believed she had absolutely no need to for. It had barely no effect anyway, she had a good enough complexion to start with. Everything they were doing seemed useless to her. It wasn't like people would pay attention to her, they never did before. Serah was the one who got all the attention. Why even try to talk to a bitch like her when she's got a much nicer, cuter sister who'd be more than happy to talk. Claire let a sigh escape lips, that had been the thought on every guys mind for awhile now. It sucked for them since they don't have much of a chance with her, sure she was nice but someone had already gone and beat them to her. The bad thing about that was that it was just another one of the idiots, she was surprised how bad her sister's taste in men was.

Claire sat at the top of the stairs at the third highest step after she'd been 'fixed up'. She felt agitated from all that. Her head was hurting from the tightness that had been caused by how her hair had been pulled back. She wasn't used to it being in that style and she could say her head wasn't either. The makeup she felt just made her annoyed, it made her feel like something about her was fake even though the difference would have only been noticeable from up close. She bit her lip, already she was wishing this night was over, and it hadn't even started.

Footsteps behind her alerted her to the presence of another looming closer to her. She was about to turn back but the voice answered her wonder over who they were before she had seen them,

"You know that the stairs are not a seat?" A giggle escaped the painted lips of the younger girl.

"Serah do you really think I care?" Her sister turned back and looked at her.

The fifteen year old knelt down at the top of the steps above where Claire sat. Her smile not leaving her face.

"I know, unlike Mamma I actually know you. Keep that in mind next time, I was only just saying after all." She stayed in the same position waiting for her sister to reply.

Claire eyed that happy smile of hers for a second before saying anything else,

"Sorry," She apologised first, she had spoken too meanly before, she hated herself when ever she did that to her sister, Serah was the one and only person she tried to avoid doing it too. "I didn't really mean it."

"I know, you're just in a bad mood because you hate this kind of stuff." Serah stood up straight and began descending the steps, "Keep in mind it won't last forever." She beamed as she left.

'But then there will be another one' Claire's mind said to itself, 'It's a never ending loop that my life is full of'

When Serah left she returned to watching the slaves putting last minute touches to everything. Soon the dreaded party would be starting, she'd follow the usual schedule, her mother dragging her to different places, before she would give up getting her daughter to socialise for once and let her go off on her own. Where'd she would be at loss at what to do and would be left with nothing to do but wonder around a crowd who either didn't know her or didn't like her. And at the end of the night she would flop into bed glad that it was over and done with, but dreading for when the next one came.

Claire had made the decision, to basically go and hide in a corner when the guests started to arrive. She didn't want to talk to any of them, she knew her mother would try to force her to at some point, but for now she could avoid it until that was no longer possible.

She saw plenty of people she recognised or knew, and some she had never seen before. Her mother had gone to parties that she had successfully convinced her to not make her go, so maybe a percentage of people here were ones her mother had met at said other parties. She saw many boys talking to Serah during this time, two who stayed by her side from the moment they had arrived. They had met her awhile ago at a party her mother had organised. Their fathers were business partners of her father, and quite major ones at that.

Noel was the brown haired boy to her right, Serah regarded him as nothing more than a close friend; which some did find weird that she could see a boy as a friend. Sadly it was he who was the one Claire could stand, the other however, she hated. Snow was the blonde tank that stood to Serah's left. He was the most obnoxious person she had ever met, and in more than one occasion she had caused him physical harm. He had this annoying habit of calling her sis, which was one of the most agitating things about him, and he wouldn't stop no matter what she said or how many punches she delivered him. However Serah liked this guy was a mystery to her, she wasn't stupid, what did she see in him? Claire took dread in the fact that when Serah was the legal age she wanted to marry the guy. That would make her his sister in law, that sure wouldn't help how he called her sis.

She could tell that almost all the guests had arrived, and so upon noticing this, she decided to go find a better hiding spot. This place was actually rather noticeable, her mother would find her with almost too much ease. She got off the chair she'd been sitting on to go find a place that wasn't so occupied, those were the places her mother were more than likely to be in.

She found her way through the crowd and away from the grand hall to the hallway at it's end to the right. As she made her way down all he passed was slaves bringing food from the kitchen to the ongoing party. They passed her with little regards, putting their thoughts and concentration on what they were doing instead. She was glad for that. She walked at a fast pace, as she strode to get away from what she would have to go through if she returned to the other room. She intended to go to where she had been earlier in the day, even if her mother knew the location now. She had doubts the woman would remember it, she didn't put much care into remembering details she found so trivial.

As she got closer to the oak doors a hand took hold of hers and twisted her to face who it belonged to. Dressed in a bright golden dress stood her mother with an accomplished smirk on her face.

"So where do you think you're going young miss?" She asked with a condescending tone, ignoring the poisonous scowl she got as a reward for her sudden action. "You aren't getting out of this. You are my daughter and you are meant to attend. Now remember to act like a proper lady and come with me." She commanded, with a voice strict and cold.

Without giving a single thought about what her daughter wanted she pulled her along with a firm grip on her wrist. She didn't even look back once, so she didn't notice the pained expression she wore. This was the second time she'd been tugged along in the same way, and same part of the house not to mention, to something she'd much rather avoid. Her hand still felt sore from the previous time this had happened, and the tight grip her mother hand was not helping the pain she already felt.

So in the end she had failed to escape what she knew her mother would eventually do, force her to make the attempt to socialise by making her stick with her as she wandered about the crowd of rich men and women.

During this time her mother had chattered away to three of her fathers business partners and their wives, two of these people she knew were the idiot that is Snow's parents. You could see the resemblance, his father with his massive stature and wide shoulders; And his mother with the exactly same shade of hair and eye colour. After that she talked with a couple who lived in a plantation nearby, owners of one of the three in the area. The father had a mess of wild blackish brownish hair, he didn't have the body remenisant of a tank but he did have height, and a lot of it. His wife was a different story, she was a short and slender woman with shining curls of red with pink twirls mixed in along it. Both had amazing green eyes, the wife especially, they shone out of her head like circular emeralds. She'd heard plenty of these two before, but had never seen them this close before. They were the only family in this part of Pulse that originated from Pulse, and had not migrated from Cocoon at some point in time. They went with the Pulsian tradition of saying the last name first, their's being Oerba Yun Reks and Oerba Dia Awana. They had two daughters, one who at current were refusing to say much about, and the other whose name apparently was Oerba Yun Fang; she'd never heard a thing about her, until now she hadn't even been aware these two had kids. They said she was much like her father in appearance, but not in personality. It came off that they couldn't stress that enough while saying it. They seemed nice, but something about them told her that wasn't all true.

But luckily for her, as she had became increasingly uneasy being near them, her mother had ended the conversation and made her follow her where she could have a new one. So again she was circling the room with a never ending need for chatter, Claire stayed silent through all of this. For one it was a way to get on her mother's nerves and she plainly didn't want to talk, she wasn't the talkative type.

As the night drew on, they ran across the wife of the other plantation owner, a woman with a peculiar hair colour (though not like she could have much of an opinion herself) that had caught her eye many times this night as she had let her gaze wander to get away from the sheer boredom she was feeling. It was silver, cut at a boys length. She was younger than her mother that was clear, she like her mother wore a yellow dress. Though her's did look better than the older one's ugly one. She greeted her mother warmly with her white gloved hand, and then offered it to her as well. That had taken her by suprise, no one had done that to her in years on occasions like this. Most people were too scared of her, some just plainly didn't like her. She was a different person than her mother she was making that clear even without saying a word. Her name was Nora Esthiem, she said that her husband Bartholomew was friends with her father, but she'd never met this person before.

The stupid thing that during all this, Claire had barely noticed the little boy clinging to Nora's side. He had the same silver hair she did, guessing their connection was easy, with them having such a resemblance. When Nora caught her staring at him, which she hadn't realised she'd been doing, she explained who he was, even if she could tell it had already figured it out.

"He's my son," She spoke happily holding onto his smaller hand, "His name is Hope." Claire looked back at Nora as she answered her thoughts. She looked so happy right now, she felt envious of it, her mother could never smile like that when she was near. Even when she was at the age he was currently at, she'd already lost the ability.

"I'm not interrupting anything am I?" A brown haired man asked as he came over to them, She couldn't help but notice the little boy give a mean look to him as he walked over. While his mother however lit up,

"Bart!" She exclaimed happily, an excited smile lit her features as the man got closer.

Claire's look switched over to her mother as she grabbed hold of her hand again,

"Might want to leave now," She whispered before Giving Nora a quick goodbye before stepping away with her daughter in tow.

She was getting more and more irritated as this went on. It was the same thing happening again and again. Just talk, talk, talk then go to someone else and repeat. Honestly nobody here had anything to talk about anyway. She could spot some girl near the library making weird shapes with her arms that looked like they'd be more interesting to talk about then the one's she was being forced to right now, and that person looked like an idiot.

She had to get away from this, her mother was too distracted to notice if she left, it was the perfect time. She took some quick steps backwards, checking again that she definitely didn't have the older woman's attention. she didn't, she really was too engrossed in the mindless chatter. It was her perfect chance, so she took it. She began at almost a run, doing her best to dodge the crowd, even she was surprised by how little people paid attention to her. She came close to knocking people over repetitively, you think someone would care. How stupid were these people?

Near the hallway she'd tried to use to escape her mother earlier in the night, she was again stopped by a hand, this time resting on her shoulder. She looked around to see a man with dark brown hair and eyes very much like her own.

"You know if you keep running away from her like this you're going to hurt her Light," He told her with his warm voice.

"I know," She replied, "Father."

He gave her a slight nod and let her carry on with her little moment for escape that he'd gotten all too used to seeing her do through the many years her mother had tried to make her do things she didn't want. She was a strange girl, that was for sure.

Claire came to the end of the hallway, to the wooden double doors that marked the entrance to the courtyard. It was dark out, but she would find a way to her usual spot. But when she opened it she was greeted by a sight she would rather have not seen. It was pouring buckets outside. She growled at the sight of the rain. But, truthfully, if she had to choose between staying in here and chancing it in the freezing cold rain, she'd chose the rain.

And so she did, the freedom she felt the moment she stepped outside more than made up for the water that pelted her from the skies. She ran across the grey stoned square over to the bridge at the back. The planks creaked under her weight with each step but she didn't care. The sounds that she heard weren't from the stupid people she'd been surrounded by but of nature and nothing more.

As she got to the end, she stared at the grass for a second, the dirt below it must have turned into total mud by now from all the rain pouring down. Damn will her mother be pissed at her now if she chose to walk through this. But did she care what that old hag thought? Not at all. She jumped off that bridge over the part which had been completely flooded and landed with a thud onto the muddy grass. She heard it squish under her black boots. She didn't bother pick up her dress to stop it getting turned into a mess, she was already a mess from the rain, why should she care?

As she rounded the trees to her usual spot, she got a surprise, there was already someone there. What was more confusing thing about that that it was the little kid that had been clinging to the silver haired woman her mother had had a conversation with earlier in the night. She took some steps closer to him, he was sitting with his legs drawn close on the soaked stone bench that she had came here to sit on. Looks like she had been beaten to it.

"Aren't you Nora's son?" She asked, even if she had no need to ask that question as she already knew it.

He raised his head noticing her for the first time,

"Um, yeah...How long have you been there?" He sounded like he was about to panic. Couldn't blame the kid if he was scared of her, so was everyone else.

"Not long, I just got here." She explained. "How long have you been here?" She asked the same question.

"I don't know, Since dad came back to talk to us. I left because I didn't want to talk to him."

That looked of anger she'd spotted before came back to his eyes for a second.

"Do you hate your father?" She questioned, feeling curious.

"What, why do you think that?" He sounded like he was lying as he said that. Trying to not have to answer what she'd asked.

Claire took some steps closer, and took a seat next to him on the bench. Partly because she needed to sit down, partly so she could get out of the rain, under this tree it was so thick leaved that not much rain could get through. She was getting sick of her hair clinging to her like it was. He eyed her as she did it, but then looked away, he appeared to be scared at the moment. Maybe he was scared of her, but she wouldn't know unless he admitted to that.

"You hate your mother don't you? The way you were looking at her was so...mean." He said instead of answering her properly.

"No different from the look you gave your father." She was right, she got him there.

"You're strange." He said still dodging answering what she'd asked.

"I could say the exact same to you.

Nyan, Done, I'm about to die. I've been sitting here since around four with the only break when I ate dinner, It's 9:19. I'm about to die.

Reviews will be appreciated more than you know and shall help with me sanity.

Thanks for reading.

Jya ne,

~Serah Villiers Valentine