Ashes (Dance Academy Fanfic)

War

I know exactly why my feet plod out of bed and down the corridor, one step after the other in a constant rhythm.

I know exactly despite having to wake up in a few hours I'm dancing down cold floors on tiptoes.

I'm doing this for Ben.

The door to the outside is too heavy and loud to unlock and open, so we perch right beside it in the hallway, sitting by candle light and huddled close against the cold of the draft seeping through. The clock strikes way past twelve, but right now I am so far away from being tired, my whole body on edge and full of electricity. Ben shivers slightly and I huddle closer, feeling his hand rest on the small of my back. The movement is enough to make me look up at him with wide eyes, the lines of his face imprinting on my brain.
"I love your sleepwear." I giggle quietly, teasing him for the hundredth time, stroking the blue striped sleeve of his pyjamas.
"I chose it especially for our midnight encounter." He smiles back at me. It's something about those eyes, those smiling eyes, never faltering to sparkle. I think I may be in love with them, and that terrifies me and excites me all at the same time. It feels like a blessing, sitting in the cold with him, my bare legs only covered by a thin layer of linen night dress. I am unashamed, and he makes me feel beautiful no matter what I wear.
"Sometimes I wish I wasn't a servant." I say into the dark.
"You shouldn't be ashamed, Tara. You're awe inspiring, especially to me." He replies, his voice smooth above me, his head resting on his chin.
"I'm not ashamed, so to say." I sigh. "I've gotten used to wearing poorness around here. I wish I wasn't a servant so much so that we could be together more. You're so lovely, and fantastic and kind, Ben, that I want to spend every minute with you, and as a servant, currently I am allowed to spend none."
He runs his hand up and down my arm, soothing me.
"I know. I know its unfair, but that doesn't mean it can't change."
"Change how?" I ask.
"You're a dreamer." He replies. "Keep your chin up, promise me you won't be sad, and I'll tell you a little story of the future of us."
"Ok. I promise." I peer up at him, showing him I mean it.
He glances down at me, his expression taking on a dream like quality, and then clears his throat to narrate our story.
"Once upon a time, in a place not so far off in the future, Ben and Tara step off a ship to a place they've never been before. Ben has a performance, and Tara works there too, as a member of the chorus, achieved by the teaching of the masterful Ben."
He pauses to let me laugh, then continues steadily.
"Tara works her way up to a principle role, writing to tell her family the fantastic news, and they eagerly rush to come and visit her. They see her in her beautiful dress, sapphire, just like her eyes, and they're wonderstruck by her performance."
I love his voice. I could fall in love with the way it bends and dips, with the pauses he takes for breaths.
"Keep going." I whisper, my eyes closed to imagine clearly. I see the lights, I see the dress, and I see Ben, illuminated, standing close to me.
"They haven't yet seen what she's capable of, because now it's time for the pas de deux with Ben. The people are stunned into silence, they have never seen movement so honest or beautiful before. They don't know how the pair could act so well, they don't know how they could produce love on the stage so well, how well they could pretend to be soul mates. Do you know how we did it, Tara?" He concludes.
"I think I have an idea." I answer. "But it's time for you to say it."
He pauses, and I feel his hand slowly slide into mine.
"It's because we wouldn't be pretending, Tara." He whispers, changing his words to future tense. "We would really be in love."
The word fills me and spills out into the air around us, filling it with wonder and hope and trust and honesty. This is love, this is love, and thinking this as he tilts his head down and I aim mine up and he places one soft kiss on my lips, like he's waking up a princess. It is more than I could ever ask for.

It doesn't last forever, because a chill runs down my spine at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. We quickly spring apart, me running to the other side of the wide doorway away from Ben, but the figure has already seen us, stepping into the low light of the candle, illuminating itself and dropping off the shadows, revealing it's identity.
"Ben, Tara." Grace addresses us each in turn. "Fancy seeing you two here."
She steps fully into the candle light, her silk night dress a sapphire blue, the exact shade of my imaginary costume. She is wearing something far fancier than I have ever owned, and she is sleeping in it.
"I was just..." I falter.
"I'm getting a drink. Tara told me she would get one for me." Ben comes to my rescue.
"Really? So what were you doing up anyway, Tara? Or Ben, did you enter her private chambers? That's not very gentlemanly of you." Grace chides.
"No!" I cry out, both of their attentions fixed on me. "I was already up. I had-"
"Yes well, I've heard enough of that." She places a hand on Bens shoulder, pushing him backwards, and slides her way to me. "I'm warning you, Tara Webster." She growls, her voice low and threatening.
"People of your class do not associate with people like me. That includes Ben. Stay away from him. I knew you had cast your filthy little eyes on him the moment I first saw you."
"That's enough!" I say lowly. I have to watch the volume of my voice to avoid alerting anyone else of the situation we're in. I feel like I'm scrabbling at thin air, trying to clutch everything that's flown out of my hands.
"Please, Grace, just leave us alone." Ben pleads.
"I'm going to tell Ms Raine what I saw, and that will be the end of both of you." Grace hisses.
"Don't! Please don't, for Ben's sake more than mine." I beg. "He's a talented dancer. He needs this."
"He's just an obstacle that needs to be dealt with." She turns to him. "You'll still be a dancer, I'm sure, but Tara needs to go." She turns to walk away, to destroy everything, but I grab her arm to spin her back.
"If you tell Ms Raine what you saw today, then I'll tell everyone that you've got the lead role without ever auditioning." I threaten. She stops suddenly, my words weighing down on her. She's afraid of me, of what this might mean to the reputation of the Academy.
"They wouldn't care. Do it." She bluffs, but she glances at Ben nervously, a crack in her facade I lock onto to drive my victory.
"They would care. People would talk, and that would be the end of the Academy in its first year. It would be all your fault, Grace, and your career would be over before it even started." I warn.
"People wouldn't believe you. You're just a servant girl."
"They'll believe enough for it to cause scandal."
She sighs, weighing up her options, deciding what to do. I think my threat works, because suddenly the anxiety on her face is replaced with discontentment.
"Fine, but you two have to stay away from each other. You threaten me with one scandal but have enough power to cause another yourselves." She demands.
I look at Ben, who slightly nods. Our happiness is not as important as all of the people who train here, and the many to come in the future. I know this school is set to become and legacy, and letting it burn because our love for each other is too dangerous, it is something neither Ben and I want.
"Done." I keep my gaze on her steady. "So we're both safe."
She stares right back, and suddenly I feel the fear again, the apprehension pressing down on my chest.
"For now, Tara Webster. You're safe for now."
For the second time, I watch Grace's back as she leaves the situation, giving both me and Ben time to catch out breaths and mull over her parting words. For now.

"Well, that couldn't have gone much worse." Ben jokes lightly.
"I don't want to stop seeing you." I say, clutching his hand again.
"You won't. We'll just leave it for a while, just pass notes, and before you know it we'll be meeting up at midnight again and going on Sunday walks."
"I hope so." I say, but my attention is caught to the grimace on his face, his hand rubbing his forehead repeatedly.
"What's wrong?" I ask, anxiously. No answer. "Ben?"
"Nothing." He tries to smiles. "Just a headache."
"Have you been getting them a lot?"
"No, no. I'm just tired." He tries to reassure me. "Honestly, my love, I'm just tired."
"Me too." I agree, sinking into his chest, feeling the goodbye weighing down on our shoulders. I'm scared of what trouble Grace could get us in, and I'm scared for what the future may hold. Despite how badly me and Ben want it to unfold, it will never play out the way we want it to. It feels like a war we're both losing.