To the Stars | Throne of Glass

35

Celaena walked out of the pianoforte room, a wonderfully light feeling in her chest. She jogged down the corridor, and returned to her room.

Gathering the black skirt into a small satchel, she quickly bundled her hair into a firm knot on her head with silver pins. Celaena removed the belt of weapons from her waist and the twin swords strapped to her back, save for a couple of knives. She slipped the discarded blades under her mattress before giving herself a final check in the mirror, and tucking the knives into the satchel. Then she strolled out.

Celaena hammered on Ben's door. He opened it not a second later. 'Yes?'

'I have dance today.' Celaena wasn't old enough to take a cab around Rifthold herself yet, so she had to be accompanied by another older assassin.

Ben took in the bun, her weaponless body and the satchel at her side. 'I'll be with you in a minute.' Then he winked, and closed the door.

True to his word, a minute later, Celaena was braving the fierce-cold winter as she stepped outside. Wrapping her cloak round her tighter, she leaned into Ben's warmth. 'It's freezing! Why is it so cold?' she moaned. Ben chuckled, giving no sign that he was affected by the chilling temperatures.

A cab pulled up, and Celaena leapt into the warm box. 'At least it's not raining,' Ben remarked. She gave a sniff in reply. The past few weeks were, in fact, terrorised by rain- unfortunately, no different from the previous Autumns. 'Samhuinn is soon,' Ben said.

'Samhuinn?' Celaena frowned. 'Already?'

'In a week.'

The cab halted to a stop outside the Royal Theatre. 'Well, I'll see you in a few hours. Don't make it too long,' he added with a wink, 'I won't be coming to get you that late in the evening today.' Celaena blushed, remembering the time when she'd made Ben wait till eleven before she finally allowed him to drag her to the horses - there were no cabs available then. She gave him a quick squeeze, and said with a mischievous grin, 'I'll try not to.' Ben simply patted her shoulder as Celaena hopped out. The knives clacked as she landed nimbly on the freezing ground. The cab rolled away, and Celaena, eager to escape the cold, quickly pushed open the double doors.

Music filled her ears and Celaena could make out Florine and her dancers on stage already. Celaena slipped into the shadows, hurriedly pulling on the black skirt. She stuffed the pants and cloak into her satchel as she walked to the large wooden platform. Florine clicked her tongue. 'Drop your swagger, Miss, and get on here!' Florine knew very well who Celaena was, but she was usually addressed 'miss' along with the other dancers.

Dropping the bag at the foot of the stage, Celaena hauled herself onto the platform in an otherwise fluid movement if it weren't for the wispy skirt. Joining the ensemble at the back, Celaena studied their dainty movements before falling into rhythm with them.

Florine only accepted the best from her dancers. Try as she might, Celaena could never mimic the poise of the dancers. Though they both had grace and agility and smoothness, Celaena supposed her movements were more... feline, whereas the dancers were pure elegance. Not that she minded it. Arobynn recommended the lessons in order for them to complete their full circle of training. In dance, form and position was focused on immensely- as it was in training with Arobynn- but it was useful nonetheless.

'Ronde de Jambe!' Florine called. The foreign language rolled off her tongue beautifully, and Celaena would have paused to listen to more if it weren't for the strict focus they needed to maintain. Celaena lifted her foot, and twirled- twice- before bounding across the stage with large split-jumps. Following the lead dancer, she pivoted on her front foot to face the many rows of seats and leapt into the air- a changement, it was called. Two fast tendus- the sweeping of a leg to the side as she extended it - 'Point those toes!' Florine exclaimed - followed by an arabesque.

'Finish in third position,' Florine said.

The lyrical music came to a halt.

For a moment, silence filled the theatre. Then, an upbeat track began to play, in uneven, jagged chords from the pianist. This was one of Celaena's favourite dances. Grinning widely, she took her place within the knot of limbs in the centre of the stage.

~

Ben had been crouched in the rafters of the Royal Theatre for some time now. Watching as the dancers below him twirled with such precision - no different from how the assassins wielded their weapons. He could see Celaena's grin even from here as she crouched within the body of dancers. He hadn't minded one bit that he was freezing his ass off here; when he saw Celaena dancing, he was transfixed, and couldn't look away.

The pianist began to play a jazz-like melody. The dancers pulsed as one like a heartbeat. It was clever - the way they synchronised their form to replicate something entirely different: shadow dance, flowers and each time, it took his breath away. But his gaze was fixed on Celaena.

Watched as she twirled, swaying her hips in slow, lolling movements. Then the music sped, as did she. Celaena flicked her leg to the side, dropping into a side lunge while placing her hands in her knees. Bounced once, twice, then took a few quick steps before launching into the air.

Fabric like black mist billowed around her as she flew into the air. A stag leaping. He glimpsed her wild smile as she glanced across the auditorium - to him. Their gazes met, and though her following spins didn't falter, he could make out a red blush creeping into her cheeks. Then the dancers, now in the far right corner of the stage, ran as one to the diagonal corner, feet as light as feathers, their bodies no more than birds in flight as they sprang. With perfect clarity, he could see the fabric of their skirts rippling as they all arched backwards, faces tilted up toward the sky, arms and legs flung back, spines arched. It was beautiful, and stunning and Ben found himself speechless as he gazed on. Celaena's dancing may not have merited much approval from Florine, but to him, it was flawless. Breathless, she turned her shining eyes to his as the music came to an end. And slowly, Ben stood, clapping.

~

Celaena grinned, and bowed. The other dancers looked on, incredulous at the young man perched on the rafters. Ben bowed back with a gracious sweep, balanced on the beam with such ease that one may have thought he was standing on the ground, rather than a thin plank of wood placed precariously in midair. Then he slipped into the shadows. A whisper of fabric, and the tip of his cloak disappeared from view.

Florine clapped her hands. 'Miss.' Celaena blinked to find everyone slipping on their pointe shoes.

She look down at her own bare feet, and wriggled her toes, before making a face. 'I don't have-'

Florine tutted. 'I know you don't have pointe shoes. And we're done for today after this. I will see you tomorrow, Celaena. With the right shoes in hand.'

Celaena smiled. 'I'll try. See you tomorrow.'

Florine's lips twitched in return.

Celaena leapt off the stage, and grabbed the satchel. She didn't break her sprint as she flung open the doors, and barrelled into the awaiting arms of Ben. 'I wasn't late this time, was I?'

Ben snorted, smile evident on his face. 'No, no you weren't.'

***

oof yes I know those were terribly choreographed dances but yea... hope you enjoyed!! also does anyone do dance? i did modern for three years but stopped it to start taekwondo :))