"Hmph, so the hack writer is toying with me again... Very well. Saber class Avenger, here for Christmas. It seems my Saint Graph combined with another one of that author's works along with "Santa". Kuhu, what a peculiar Christmas you'll have on your hands, Accomplice~"
I just wanted to muck around and make a Santa/Nutcracker variant for my beloved Avenger since as it turns out, the ballet for the Nutcracker was based upon an adaptation written of the original fairy tale written by Alexandre Dumas.
So I present: Santa Avenger! 💝
This guy would still introduce himself as Avenger even when he's technically a Saber haha.
this...accidentally became Nutcracker-related??? oops?
this performance is the reference
word count: 715
warnings: ballet talk
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Four, three, two, one, and!
With a deep breath, Aelin leapt out into the brightly lit, softly falling fake snow, her stage grin plastered across her face. Careful not to step onto any patch of snowflakes, she marked her spot and swept into a sequence of turns, beaming at the corps dancers who spun and bourréed past, their fingers fluttering like the snowflakes they danced.
Strong, steady arms caught her around the waist and lifted her effortlessly up into the air.
Aelin tipped her head back just a fraction, flashing a hell yes! grin at her partner, Rowan Whitethorn, who winked back as he fluidly settled her back onto her pointe shoe, her back leg floating gracefully up into arabesque.
He squeezed the hand he held. Ready?
She squeezed his hand back. Yes.
Seven, eight, now! Banding one arm around Aelin's waist, Rowan lifted her off the stage, sweeping her in a broad, graceful circle. She leant forwards, extending her upper body towards her leading arm, her back leg wrapping around Rowan's hips for stability. Around them, the corps darted into formation, the faint thumping of pointe shoes against the stage a counterpoint to the orchestra's gradual crescendo.
On her own feet again, Aelin separated from Rowan, tossing him one lingering glance as they each marked their spots between the rows of snow corps, breathed, and jumped into sauté arabesque, moving down the snow corps corridors in a series of energetic, but elegant, jumps and turns. They met again in the middle, Aelin launching into a triple turn and Rowan catching her, his hands solid and sure on her waist, and guiding her into a gorgeously weightless promenade in arabesque.
Aelin let her mind drift, her muscles remembering the choreography engrained into them, the music guiding her muscle memory. She cheered internally as she and Rowan absolutely nailed the last lift before parting and exiting the stage in opposite wings.
Once offstage, she braced her hands on her knees, panting, exhausted but beaming. She grabbed a tissue from the nearby box and blotted her face and neck, then waited in the wing, counting the bars until her next entrance. Five, six, seven, eight, go!
As the Waltz of the Snowflakes built higher and higher, Aelin entered again, working in a looping series of waltz turns across to center, where Rowan stood, arms extended for her. She flashed him a smirk as she arched into the partnered turn, giving her back just a little more arch than strictly necessary. He inhaled sharply but kept his stage smile firmly in place--though the darkening of his eyes made a wonderful, wonderful promise.
The waltz crashed into a grand crescendo, the snow corps and Rowan and Aelin and the dancer playing Drosselmeyer freezing in place, forming a picture-perfect pose. And then the music returned, softer now, and the snow corps shifted into parallel lines, guiding the path for Clara and her Prince to link arms and step upstage, towards the glowing star set against the backdrop.
Beneath the fake snow drifting down from above, Aelin flicked her eyes sideways to Rowan's, keeping her Clara persona in place as she shot him a little wink, allowing her steps to have just a little bit of extra swing. His nostrils flared--both from the exertion of the waltz and pas de deux and from something else--and the hand against her waist flexed ever so slightly.
Behave.
She just flashed him an angelically innocent grin as the snowfall thickened and the snow corps quietly faded into the wings and shifting scenery, Clara smiling at her Prince as they entered the forest.
As the lights and orchestra slowly faded and the wave of applause from the audience crested, Aelin and Rowan disappeared into the forest scenery, stealing a too-brief moment behind a convenient screen of fake trees.
"You were incredible," Rowan whispered, grinning broadly.
"You were incredible," she whispered back, on the verge of clapping with glee.
He winked, checked to make sure they hadn't been spotted, and kissed her swiftly, tasting the faint trace of sweat beaded on her lips. She rose up onto pointe and sighed into his kiss, their lips parting all too soon.
If only they had more than a quick stolen moment before the curtain rose again for bows.
// forgot that this week's therapy appointment was actually a reschedule and I have it again next week instead of the week after! which is a NICE thing to look forward to... given I'm kind of a petite wreck
// I (probably very!) unadvisedly let myself have the last word there, but I didn't say anything super sad or desperate or anything (although I did... really... realllllyyyy want to be like I WAS REALLY TRYING!! I do not intend to come across as closed off emotionally as I think I did anyway!)
FINISHED WATCHING BARBIE AND THE NUTCRACKER AND IT IS STILL MY ALL TIME FAVORITE MOVIE AND I'M SO HAPPY AND WOW LIKE I LOVE THE MUSIC AND THE STORY IS SO CUTE AND THE DANCING GOD I LOVE THE DANCING YOU GUYS DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I LOVE IT
