inspired by nnk/ss, ella's brilliance, and swan lake! if you want to see what the dance is or listen to the music, i've included all the names throughout. if you can't find anything let me know and i will send links! and if you want to know more about swan lake i can tell you plenty. you guys know how much i love ballet. this is not cannon.

there was always a breath before elise started dancing. a moment of stillness, a silence, before the music rose and the world became a blur and the only thing that mattered was the satin and canvas of her shoe on the floor.

one. two. threefourfive. six. seven. eightnineten. and again. and again. twentyone. twentytwo. twentythree. twentyfour—

the arch of her foot burned. she didn't think she'd be able to get back up on pointe. she didn't know why she was pushing herself so hard. her chest ached. she only needed 32—not 36—36 was overkill, and she'd never done 36 before, and—

and suddenly she'd done her thirtysixth perfect fouetté and landed, arms spread wide, and the world stopped again. the music continued to blare in the studio, and applause roared to life, but elsie was frozen, staring at herself in the mirror. she looked triumphant. felt it, too—and she felt dangerous, seduction taken form, like she'd just toppled her greatest enemy with the curve of her neck and hip and smile.

when her her cue came, she snapped into action, beginning to dance again, shooting siegfried her best little smile. she danced away from him—every time he tried to touch her, she was just out of reach. he needed her, but she was black smoke in his fingers.

when she fell out of her last arabesque, she finally let him touch her. let him take her waist, brush the black feathers adorning her leotard, and help her finish her final pirouette.

but when he knelt before her, she ripped her hand from his and froze on the last strike of that orchestra. applause roared to life again. it filled her with glee. the audience was hungry for what came next—for the pain and despair that she would bring.

siegfried was on her knees. he was hers to destroy, and she had him right where she wanted him—in mere moments, he would declare his love for the wrong woman, and she'd see his face crumple as he realized that she had blinded him from seeing the monster beneath her loveliness. her father had blessed her with this gift, and she turned to face him as siegfried faced the queen mother with all his false joy—

but she didn't see rothbart standing there. she saw izzy and maddox, wide-eyed as they peered into the studio, holding open its heavy door. "hey. i heard the music, and then i saw you dancing," izzy began.

the illusion faded. the lights of the stage disappeared, and the deafening sound of a full orchestra faded to the tinny recording of a rehearsal pianist attempting to replace it.

elsie lowered her arms, gasping for air, and puked all over the floor.

she heard the door close as izzy rushed into the room and took elsie's arm before she could hit the floor. "i'm fine," elsie insisted, voice overlapping with izzy's questions and protests. "i'm fine," she said again. this time, izzy interrupted.

"elizabeth sayers, if you don't sit down before you pass out, i will make sure you regret it. i have plenty of dirt on you—truth or dare, fifth grade."

elsie laughed somehow, but relented, moving to sit against the wall with izzy's help. she heard maddox outside in the hall, gagging repeatedly. seemed like he couldn't handle watching people puke. first birds, now this. the kid was really something else. she could see why people enjoyed his comapny.

"don't go anywhere, dumbass," she said, then disappeared. probably to calm down mads and find something to clean up the mess elsie had made.

now that she was sitting, she felt exhaustion hit her hard. sweat slid down under her leotard and burned her eyes, and her heart was pounding too hard. her stomach roiled and the world spun.

the moment passed, and eventually elsie felt strong enough to pull her leg up to untie the knot of her pointe shoe's ribbon. she unraveled the pink satin, then carefully pulled the shoe off.

as expected, her toes were bloody. that didn't faze her—she stretched and wriggled her toes gently, then began to massage her arch, where the muscles had seized and stiffened.

she removed her other shoe and was giving that foot the same treatment when izzy came back with gloves, lysol, paper towels, and a trash bag.

"i sent maddox away. he was about to throw up just from seeing you do it," she explained, tossing paper towels over the mess with gloved hands.

"where did you get all this stuff?" elsie asked, wrapping her arms around herself.

"i have access to all the janitorial closets. they come in handy in a pinch," she said, smiling in a way that made elsie think she was talking about sex.

"oh. cool, you should show me sometime," she said, not really knowing how to respond. and, of course, she sounded flirtatious without meaning to.

"i mean... nevermind." she managed to laugh, deciding she would pretend that she'd never said that. izzy gave her a shit-eating grin, but had clearly decided not to torture elsie over her mistake.

this was mildly awkward, even before elsie's comment. the two do them hadn't had a proper conversation for so long, and now izzy was here, helping her when she didn't need to and shouldn't have to.

izzy doused the floor in lysol, and the smell pinched at elsie's nose.

"are you okay?" she asked after another moment of scrubbing with paper towels, not looking up from the floor. "you sick?"

"i don't think so," elsie replied, words feeling too casual. "i—i do this sometimes. push myself too hard. it doesn't happen often, but... i should have stopped practicing two hours ago. and i haven't had enough water. and i think i ran those fouettés four times without a break," she explained, finally breathing at an almost normal rate, though her heart still seemed to pound a bit too quickly, and her face was a splotchy cherry color, her dark hair in contrast where it stuck to her forehead.

done with the cleaning, izzy tossed the last round of lysol-soaked paper towels and pulled off the gloves, then knotted and set the trash bag to the side. she joined elsie against the wall, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"you really need to take care of yourself," izzy said, matter-of-fact. "you're an athlete. your body is important. you can't abuse it like that."

elsie was silent for a long moment, staring at the wall across the room. she wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, feeling a little bit like she wanted to cry.

"i know."

izzy was right, of course. elsie wasn't even going to try and deny it. and usually, she was healthy—so healthy, and so strong. but she'd been so stressed lately. there were performances coming. school was getting harder. her mom was on her case. holland, who had once been her closest friend, was gone, just when elsie was slowly growing unable to get her out of her mind. and the school that had once been her home felt foreign to her—she didn't like being inside it's walls anymore. it was as if something had changed there, more than just the students and teachers. elsie just couldn't put her finger on it.

and then there was the matter of the sin that she'd committed, one that haunted her every night before she closed her eyes. one she still hadn't confessed to in the eyes of her lord. even the thought of telling a priest sent a spike of terror through her.

"good," izzy responded.

and that was that. there was another stretch of silence. elsie sighed, and imagined that all her worries were leaving her with that exhalation of breath, curling in the air, where they couldn't hurt her.

"that was amazing, though. when you danced—it was like you'd become someone else."

now elsie met izzy's gaze, eyebrows raised just slightly, her mouth quirking into a small smile.

"that's the point. it's called acting, iz—"

"no," izzy insisted. "it was like—like you were a completely different person. i almost didn't recognize you. it was kind of scary, i've —never seen that look on your face."

elsie's smile grew. she liked compliments, especially ones about her performances.

"it's because i'm nothing like odile. i was doing her fouettes—in the coda of act three's grand pas de deux. she's odette's evil counterpart, von rothbard's daughter—"

before she could continue, the door opened again, and drew stepped into the studio.

"hi," she said quietly. "i—i saw you guys sitting in here and i thought..."

she shrugged, hesitating for a moment by the door before moving further into the room and sitting on elsie's other side.

they sat like that for awhile, tense in the uncomfortable silence.

there was a holland-shaped elephant in the room.

"i miss her," elsie said quietly, taking drew's hand and squeezing tight.

"me too," drew echoed quickly, words leaving her in a rush, as if she'd been holding her breath. she sounded moments away from crying.

"so much," izzy added after a long, unbearable moment.

elsie took izzy's hand, too, and let her head fall to rest on drew's shoulder as swan lake continued to play quietly from the speakers. she realized she'd never turned it off. this was one of her favorite orchestrations from the ballet—op. 20, act IV, no. 27. a song of mourning; a song of love and life lost.

she could almost feel holland with them, in this very room.

it made her wonder if holland really was in heaven, happy, smiling down on them all—or if she was burning in hell, like professor arlington claimed.

maybe she wasn't in either of those places. maybe the dead continued to walk the earth long after they'd been buried.