#the reader didn't give up so yeah. the og moodboard was better but i might like this

[roseadleyn]

ARIA ROSCENTE FALLING FOR A DANCER,,, IMAGINE THEM JUST DANCING IN AN EMPTY BALLROOM OR THE READER DANCING DURING A BANQUET AS PART OF A DANCING TROUPE OR SM

you've hit me in the heart. again.

this is before aria got married because no cheating kids. also switched a little something up

reader's personality is like.. applause by lady gaga and i only realized after writing the fic

idk it's historical so no wheelchair no travel, my mind isn't working it's 4 in the morning (mm, that rhymes nicely)

-

𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐲. || 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞.

word count: 1.6k

lily means majesty. i wanted to emphasize how the reader appeared to aria during the dancing, and how aria appears to reader because of how beautiful she is. it's not a perfect fit and i don't like it, but i'm dead tired and i cannot look or think for/of a new title, so yeah. sorry for the upcoming, messy, cringe oneshot btw 😇

— rose.

the sun is rising and you realize something.

everyone has a dream in life.

that dream can be anything, really. from getting a sweet house with a little garden to aiming for the stars, a high education, a majestic performance — it all depends, from people to people.

but dreams change, do they not? do dreams not vary over the course of a life? maybe that's exactly what happened with you.

you started out with a dream, too. your dream was to travel, to wander, to traipse over the world. to see the sights, to visit the empires, to take a taste out of every culture. to meet people, to wear the clothes of a foreign land, to take pride in your own and then finally, to settle down in your very own dreamland with a friend or two or maybe a husband. and you threw your heart and soul into this dream, working all throughout school days, talking to people, arranging your group, running here and there to set your travel documents in order, and by your graduation you were sure and ready and full of excitement.

alas, these dreams were not brought to success, this happiness was not to last. you were so close, the dream brought tantalizingly close, so near that you could almost, almost taste it on the tip of your tongue.

until you couldn't.

a week before your scheduled departure, a mix up with your papers that cannot be fixed happens — the loss of those papers, and of course remaking them is too much time, isn't it? your group has to leave in time and back home, pillows and blankets pile around you to block out your endless tears, to block out the feeling of hollow, ringing emptiness, dreamless, hopeless. what good is a person who can't support themselves?

eventually — okay, well, it takes a while but — eventually, you direct some leftover optimism elsewhere.. you decide you'll dance until the papers return, dance with everything you had. now all your time is given to practices and training and development, until you've perfected your voice and your dancing, and people are sure you sound like an angel from the seventh heaven and you dance as smoothly as water flows in a stream.

unfortunately, news of your success can only travel so far. you are still barred from traveling, so you dance in your little space. and slowly with time, you fall in love with it, with bending your body, with maintaning your balance. the beauty of your dancing, the harmony of your voice, is so immense that the Marquess Sarah invites you to perform at an event that she will be holding. she lets you know the guest list, and the important, difficult-to-pronounce noble-esque names make you strive to perform the best you can, pushing your physical limits to the last straw while your mental stamina is far from running out.

when the big day arrives, you step on the stage with stars glittering in your eyes and a tiara on your head that might as well be a coronet of blossoms. you give out your sweetest performance yet, heartbeat pitter-pattering in your chest, movements fluid, voice smooth, the gentle remains of a smile on your face, and for a moment you lose yourself, dancing only for your abandoned dreams and forsaken hope of travelling.

the melody slows to an end and you come to your surroundings with a little start, slightly shaken by all the loud sounds, but it's only applause. all around you, the nobles are giving you a standing ovation, some even standing to do so. you grin, small tears forming in the corners of your eyes, surprised and stunned at this support. amongst those who cheer, a girl catches your eye — slender with blonde hair and green eyes, devastatingly beautiful, politely clapping along with the rest of everybody else.

aria brings her hands together and claps for you, sincerely meaning her applause. she's not a stranger to good performances, not since her whole adoption thing but.. your performance. that was something aria hadn't seen in any of her lives.. wait.

hazy, golden memories swim to the top of her mind. afternoons spent strumming the strings of a violin, running through the corridors with interlinked hands during the hot summer, dawn gone dancing underneath the slowly rising sun. whispered confessions, the brightness of a chandelier, the moment of triumph when you performed for the imperial palace and the overwhelming feeling of pride in her heart — yes, she knew you alright, and this time she was determined not to let her own stupidity curse you to a fallen dream, again.

after you're led offstage and the conversation breaks out, she gets up and heads to your dressing room. she has no issues persuading the knights and finding the large, ornate marble door to your dressing room. she hesitates, trying to remember more of you.. why hasn't she remembered before, when she returned? then she could've come straight to you instead of wasting both her and your time.

a knock on the door, and a confused 'come in!' are all aria needs. she opens the door and looks up, forgetting how to breathe. you haven't changed a bit — still the same compassionate eyes that are the windows to the kindest soul she's known, the simple, minimalistic make up style that you loved so much and never left the house without, your hair that she used to do in ringlets and braids and whatnot. you're so.. majestic. the careless beauty, the easiness and grace about your ways. she feels her heartbeat speed up, and sternly tells herself to get a hold.

'hello, good evening. my name is aria roscente. i just wanted to congratulate you on your performance, it was quite beautiful.' she hates herself for the too-nice tone and the plastered smile.

i knew you better. you don't deserve to be talked to like you're just anyone.

you don't notice — of course you don't. you beam at aria and she prays you don't notice the tips of her ears turn pink.

'thank you! it's very kind of you, lady roscente.'

you fidget with your fingers, trying your best not to look aria in the eye. she's so effortlessly lovely, so.. majestic. she triggers some hidden memories that you didn't know you had — laughing until you can't breath, doing each other's makeup, playing tag in the fields above her house. above whose house? you can't seem to recall.

you're doing well at hiding your self-consciousness until aria says, 'i would like you to come to a tea party this thursday with me and some friends.'

you look up, hardly daring to believe it. 'me? why?'

'i'm sure my friends want to congratulate you.'

'what for?'

'being such an immense success at your first big performance.'

when you still look hesitant, aria adds, 'marquess sarah will be there too.'

you weigh the options in your head. if you went, your influence would be increased. if you didn't, people might start whispering about you, in the street, tea houses, anywhere.

then again, people whispered about you all the time.

the tea party arrives and starts. aria greets the guests and makes polite chit chat, but all she can think about is you. will you arrive? what if you decide not to come? wait, did she remember to place your favorite desert on the table?

finally, you walk into the room, looking bashful and beautifully out of place. dressed in white, a single ribbon woven through your hair, she stands up to pull you into her embrace and never let you go before she remembers that the nobles with slander her to her death... again.

'i'm glad you could make it.' instead, she smiles at you, and then addresses the room at large. 'everyone, this is the dancer from marquess sarah's party, and i invited them to show our appreciation for their marvelous performance.'

a hushed murmur resounds throughout the room, the ladies nodding and mumbling about your performance being excellent. aria notices you give a pleased smile and decides to let you speak.

'thank you for your support, everyone. but, quite honestly, it's hard at times. there are whole days where we don't eat and our entire dancing troupe has severe damage to their toes because of how uncomfortable our dancing shoes are. and...'

as you tell them about the ups and downs of being a dancer, aria can only think about how much she's missed the lilting tone of your voice, the sweetness of your lips, the dreams and hopes in your eyes. the only reason she invited you was to have some time alone with you, anyways, and these noble ladies were going to judge you no matter what, so why not cut your little speech short?

'if i could have a moment, everyone?' she signals to you to follow her after 10 minutes — thankfully, you see the sign — and strides out of the room. almost 12 minutes later — okay, so what if she was counting? she just wanted to see you! — you walk outside, smiling and flushed. she feels a hint of jealousy, especially because none of those women, with the exception of Sarah, mean well towards you.

as you walk, the atmosphere becomes heavy and awkward. so you break the silence, saying, 'lady, why did you bring me outside?'

aria gives you another smile. 'i wanted to dance.'

'dance? oh, my lady, you don't mean — with me?'

'who else? besides, i'm not asking you to be a permanent teacher for me or anything. just dance with me.'

later on, aria would realize that the pair of you reached your destination that day even though the two of you never discussed where you were going.

everyone has a dream in life, but everyone can have several. her dream has always been freedom, liberation from her death, but now she realizes that freedom is not revenge or seduction or gambling through tricks of time reversal at the casino. freedom, aria thinks, as the sun sets, is to be with with you. her freedom is you.

taglist: @elychee, @loekas, @mysticmeena, @parkykwho, @d10nsaint, @hmerus / @rouecentric (your request! sorry it's late), @sidra-29, @dxmoness, @lady-navier0357, @xphantasmagoriax (if you mind being tagged then i'm really sorry, please let me know) @giyuus0nlywife, @that-one-pretty-bitch, @nxccolo, @yevenly /@hevaenly, @dion-s-lawyer, @ykassu / @ylxntis, and @ithil-lucien.