Donkeyskin - ON HOLD

Of Adrienne

*Of Adrienne*

 Elodie spun across the polished floor of the studio, her pointe shoes making soft tapping sounds when they landed from each turn. Noah swept her up and swung her around in a move that Elodie doubted anyone would imagine finding in a ballet. Noah dipped her back over his arm so far that her head nearly touched the floor, as if they were dancing a dirty tango, not a tragic ballet.

Noah raised her upright and guided her through a tango-esque duet, marching them both from one side of the stage to the other. When they reached the center again, he lifted her over his head. Her leg came up to rest on his shoulder as the music came to a crescendo and the end of one number.

"Good," M. Beaufort announced. "But, Lune, your lines are sloppy. You curve your body to much. Be straight and strong. Curves come later. Noah, you ignore your character to focus on your dancing. You are the lover!"

Elodie bent down, her hands grasping her calves, breathing heavily, ignoring M. Beaufort's instructions to Noah. She had a ride planned with Alexandre, and her whole body throbbed with the ache of a long, hard rehearsal.

"Dismissed!" M. Beaufort announced, shaking Elodie out of her contemplation. She straightened, pushing a damp strand of hair off her face. She gathered her things, chatting with Fleur, but excused herself quickly.

She changed hurriedly in her chamber and hurried to meet her prince at the stables. It was a beautiful day, pleasantly cool and just windy enough to rattle the new leaves on the aspen and birch trees. Flowering trees had put out blossoms of pink and white, and the once-muddy and slushy paths were firm and dry, bordered by pale green grass. Edelweiss, crocus and jonquils poked their heads aboveground, their fragrant scent twining around everything in a soft embrace.

Elodie, in honor of the changing season, had dressed in a pale sea foam green riding habit that matched the spray flung up by the waves that crashed against the cliff faces far below the palace grounds. Elodie turned her face up to the warming sunlight and relished the feeling of the wind on the back of her neck, exposed by her coiled and pinned-up hair.

When she reached the stables, she found Alexandre waiting outside, holding the reins of two horses, his Kraken, and the black mare he'd been helping Elodie to train, Jasmine. He was hatless, his golden hair fluttering in the wind, and Elodie couldn't help but smile at him.

"Hello," she said, rising up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek when she reached him. She took Jasmine's reins from him.

"Hello," he answered. Their eyes met, and his expression changed. "You look beautiful," he murmured. Elodie felt her cheeks heat. She wished she could look away, but something in his gaze held her in place.

"Thank you," she murmured, her heart racing at his nearness. Her emotions swirled, and she realized that, despite her better judgement, she had grown more than fond of the prince before her. She knew, too, that he had fallen in love with her, and, unlike she'd thought before, he loved her for her, not because her dancing had hypnotized him. They had spent enough time together doing other things that she knew his feelings were much deeper than infatuation.

"Um," she managed to get out. "Should we, uh, ride, or...?"

Alexandre seemed to pull himself out of deep thought and blinked down at her. "Right," he said. He placed his hands on her waist and lifted her into Jasmine's saddle. When he turned away to mount Kraken, she realized that his touch felt pleasant, that she no longer disliked it, if she ever had. She smiled delightedly, feeling like she'd won some sort of triumph. Perhaps she could find happiness with Alexandre.

But she knew, deep down, that, despite his love for her, Alexandre could not, politically, marry Lune the dancer, and there was no way she could reveal herself as Lune. Over the past few weeks, the rumors of a coming war with North Avalon had grown more serious. Who was to say King Stefan wouldn't turn her over to broker a peace, to avoid a war?