Oh, before I forget; good luck in the Rugby World Cup!

Go All Blacks and the English!

Moving on...

This is it...last chapter...wow...

Very quickly:


A lot of you guys have asked whether there will be a sequel! At this point, I have a lot of ideas (dating back to the night I first came up with the idea of Clair, so almost a year's worth). I can't give a definite 'yes' right now because I don't know what's going to happen next (Volcano? Tsunami?), but if it's going to happen I will put up a new chapter here, on Clair, which will preview it and tell you where to go to read it!

This will probably happen in the Summer Holidays (December and January), but it all depends.


Right, so I was looking about on Fanfiction recently and I've realized that there are quite a few writers out there with one or two chapter Fanfics which have awesome ideas! but haven't really gotten off the ground yet for whatever reason. If anyone wants a beta for one of these kind of stories I would love to help (not just spelling but also ideas and themes and character and such)! Please flick me a message or a review if you're interested!

Tudor London and Sugar Plum!

Okay, Tudor London now becomes first priority and Sugar Plum second. I hope to write Sugar during the week, and Tudor during the weekends. We'll see how it works out, but that is my master plan for the next few months.


I've been through earthquakes and laptop failures and writer's block and all these things and you guys have been amazing! You've stood by me when you've had perfect right to ditch Clair! Thank you! And thanks for all your advice and kicks-up-the-butts and suggestions and criticism and praise. It is just awesome! Please know that you guys have made this story happen!

Merci Beaucoup!

This chapter is dedicated to L, who has put up with me rather a lot since the Quake. Thank you for dealing with me bursting into the room asking for synonyms...

And it's also dedicated to my mummy :P I'm sorry it didn't turn out the way you and L wanted it to end...ugh...ewww...ewwwwww...however, thanks for everything. You're amazing, hope you know it! :D Merci beaucoup, ma mere!

Everything had gone wrong tonight. Not one thing had gone to plan...but perhaps that was made the night one of the best of my life, despite everything...

My ankle turned out to have a very bad strain. Doctor Hill was almost gleeful to tell us that I'd have to be off for at least three weeks, delightedly pointing at one of his posters; 'Paralysis with your Pirouettes.' Three weeks seemed far too long, but Edward assured me he'd lend me all the theory books he'd tortured himself with, so I wouldn't miss out. Doctor Hill taped up my ankle and let me borrow a crutch for the night, and I hobbled into the Dining Hall with one hand around Edward's waist, the other clutching the ugly grey thing. At least my pointe shoe ribbons half concealed the tape.

There was a bit of a pause in conversation as we entered. All the patrons and audience turned, taking in my condition. I blushed a deep red as the hall turned silent. Oh God, I shouldn't have come...But then they began to clap.

Suddenly, Edward and I were enveloped in a rush of compliments and questions, handshakes and pats on the back. People wanted to know how long we'd been dancing together for, where I'd trained before Force, what had happened to Tanya Denali?

Edward answered the last with a firm 'Tanya and I are no longer partners.' It sent an thrill up me, hearing those words, although I knew that they were dangerous; there was no question that Tanya was better than me...but then Edward had chosen, and I had to trust him...as another person asked the same question, I decided that at least for tonight, I wouldn't worry myself stressing about whether he would really be able to put up with me.

Though it was still difficult not to be in awe of him. He knew so many of the people, and graciously introduced me to every single one. He was only seventeen...yet these ballet fans and directors and teachers and patrons talked to him with the high regard they would a principal danseur...

Eventually Master Hinde made the call for everyone to take their seats for the award ceremony. We excused ourselves from the portly-looking benefactor we'd been speaking with, and Edward helped me over to where my class sat, still in their light blue ensembles.

He sat by me as they all clucked about, giving me a blow-by-blow account of all they'd seen. It was hard for him, I knew, trying to keep a teacher-student relationship with everyone else but the complete opposite with me. Violet and Eliza could hardly stop giggling, looking between us like we were playing a game of tennis.

Despite the slight awkwardness of the situation, my class felt like a proper class again. Jessica was perched on the lap of a beaming Mike Newton, chatting away to Megan and Selene. And Lauren actually seemed quite animated as she picked out all the flaws in Master Rodriguez's routine, which I supposed was a slight improvement on face-to-face insult.

It was bizarre, really, that all of us were so close after so many hostilities. I knew that it wouldn't last – that soon we'd be at each other's throats again. But for the moment, we were a team who had beaten the worst of odds and had still come through shining...

Although, we didn't win.

Master Hinde announced with quite the most irksome smile at me that Madame Cox's class was disqualified for having a dancer in their piece who was not registered in the class and, indeed, not even registered in the same year group. Edward whispered an earnest 'sorry' to my class, but they all looked at him like he was mad.

Master Hinde asked Master Rodriguez to come up and collect the trophy for the fifth year running.

We clapped politely with everyone else. Some looked slightly down-beat, but Lauren leaned over and, with a smirk, said, "Well, maybe we didn't win, but Jesus, whose dance is going to be more memorable? We were badass."

Though Edward, probably not ever destined to forgive her, looked away stonily, I had to smile back. She was right; we were the history makers. And up on the stage Madame Cox clapped with a twinkle in her eye. I was glad; even after my surprise entry, things hadn't gone as planned...we certainly hadn't gotten the win she'd been wanting, but it seemed she was happy.

Edward's class won the senior competition, despite his absence. I squeezed his hand as we watched them all jump up and hug each other. "I'm a real idiot," he muttered.

"You know they've already forgiven you," I said, smiling as Jasper lifted Alice up in his arms. They were once again back to their rowdy selves...

Rosalie and Emmett's pas de deux had given Master Carlisle and Madame Esme a run for their money, apparently. Eliza and Violet whispered to us that they'd done a 'seriously hot' tango kind of thing, and that they'd probably have beaten the teachers if Carlisle and Esme had done a clean, classical piece. But, as it was, they seemed to have predicted what Em and Rose were going to do, and so they equalled the heat with a saucy pas de deux from Carmen, the story of the seductress.

We laughed as Master Carlisle gave Madame Esme a chaste kiss, then held up their trophy in triumph with a wink to Rosalie and Emmett.

With the awards ceremony finished, I had figured we'd all be sent to bed to rest before a full day of classes tomorrow. But then music began playing and drinks and food were brought out – the champagne, I noticed, was kept well away from us students – and people began mingling again. Edward whispered me a promise of return and went to apologize to his friends.

Peter came up and congratulated me, saying that it seemed I'd found his replacement. I bit my lip, smiling. I'd managed to foster a fondness for him over the past week, even though he was probably one of the most serious dancers I'd ever met. He was funny, in a quiet way...but he was right; Edward was the one and only danseur who could ever dance with me the way I truly wanted.

Angela came hurrying up soon after, pulling a besotted Ben along behind her. I amusedly noticed her rumpled hair and blushing cheeks before she threw her arms around me, "That was insane! I was so proud! Everyone in the crowd was gawping, seriously!"

I laughed, feeling so happy. We pulled back and I looked at her bad arm, "I just wish you could've been on stage with us, Angela. I missed you up there."

She smiled with a hint of sadness, "We'll find out soon...just promise me free tickets to all of you and Edward's performances when you're both famous and I'll be happy."

"We'll get you through it, Ange'," said Ben, gently putting his arm around her. "You'll be back dancing in no time."

"With you, I hope?" She said, leaning back against his chest.

I hid my smile and slipped away before things got too hot.

The night wore on, and the kitchen staff certainly showed their skills, serving out platter after platter of treats. I guessed that tonight was the one exception to the strict diet they usually kept us on.

I didn't see Tanya at all for the rest of the night, although rumours were circulating that she'd been seen in a corner in a deep discussion with the director of the US Ballet Academy. I wondered what to think of it; did it mean she was going into the school? Or straight into the US Ballet, despite her missing the audition. I decided it would be better not to care. She could liaise what she wanted with Jeffrey Evans; I didn't want to have anything to do with either of them.

Of course, if I was going to continue with ballet then I would eventually bump into them again.

And continuing with ballet? I could hardly think of doing anything else...because when I had first come to this academy, I had thought myself just a schoolgirl with an affection for dance. An academic toying with the idea of ballet. But now I knew who I was, and what I was capable of...

Now I was a ballet dancer.

When the time was nearing Midnight, I was standing with Eliza, Violet, Angela and Ben and a few others, half listening to their conversation about what the big production might be this year. Violet had managed to swig a couple of glasses of champagne from somewhere, and her giggling was higher than ever as Eliza suggested that we do a ballet version of Hannah Montana.

A pair of strong arms suddenly wrapped around my shoulders. I smiled as his scent swirled around me. "You look like you need an escape," he whispered in my ear.

"Is it that obvious?" I replied.

His chest moved against my back as he chuckled, "I suppose I'll have to rescue you, then."

With a quick excuse to my friends, I slipped my hand into Edward's and we snuck through the crowd to the doors.

The Entrance Hall was cool in comparison to the Dining Hall, and I let out a long breath, turning to look at him. He gazed at me, a smile on his lips, "You are beautiful, Bella."

I blushed, glancing down at my hands, "Stage makeup."

He rolled his eyes, "Well, it doesn't detract too much..."

I couldn't help but beam at him then, feeling happiness flow through me, calm and seemingly endless...and I knew it wasn't. I knew that tomorrow would see Tanya's revenge and Lauren's return to bitchiness and Master Carlisle's various punishments and expectations.

"Things aren't going to be easy," Edward murmured, seeming to concur with my thoughts without meaning to.

"I know," I said.

We slowly began making our way to the stairs. Without a word, Edward hoisted me up in his arms. I balanced my crutch in one hand and wrapped the other around his neck. Stars twinkled outside the great window as he carried me up the stairs. I looked at his chiselled features. If I was beautiful then he was godlike...and I was so, so lucky to have him.

I have him...

The thought started it. The music in my head...serene and light.

We reached the first floor, and we both stilled. The notes played strongly in my head. Edward gently set me down, still holding my weight as my foot touched the ground. I looked down the corridor, past the various doors where I'd taken my classes each day. The pull was so strong...I looked back at Edward.

"Bella," Edward said, "You're injured...it wouldn't be a good idea..."

I raised my eyebrow, seeing the complete contradiction in his emerald eyes. They were alight with emotion. And I knew that he could hear it too; the music.

A smile crept to his lips once more, and he stepped back, taking my hand in his own.

We walked down the corridor, the pain in my ankle faded by the feel of something much stronger. I knew Doctor Hill had commanded that I rest, but he didn't understand...dance had power over me, much more than an injury...

We entered the last door on the left...the door through which I had first glimpsed this man...and any thought of worry flew from my head.

Moonlight poured through the windows, catching on the dust which lingered in the air. The empty floor was bathed in white. I relaxed, feeling the cool air surround me...

Edward returned from the stereo. He took both my hands in his own and led me to the centre.

We looked at each other, breathing as one. And the music began all around us.

We stepped back, lowering our hands, as the first notes played, delicate and soft. I lowered into a deep curtsy, he into a bow. A surrender. To one another. And then our fingertips touched again, and he slowly pulled me back up to him. I let myself lean back, my spine curving over his hands. My arms stretched above my head, my fingers swirling the dust. I smiled, my eyes shutting, languishing in this freedom...

I came back up, and we turned so that he stood behind me. His lips brushed my bare neck as my leg reached out. I couldn't help but sigh, letting my head lean back against his chest. He turned me in a slow pirouette, the notes gently coming down as my arms rose. He spun me faster as the music gained intensity, and faster again.

And then quickly it came into its first flourish, and I halted, my arms around his neck, one leg back in an arabesque. He spun me again, and then once more. We grinned; both knowing what was coming next. With the final flourish, I pulled back, and he kissed my knuckles in farewell, his eyes meeting mine with a glint mischief.

The fast notes began, and we parted, I one way and he the other. I spun and twirl in a wide circles the notes tumbled on delightfully, letting my happiness reign free! In his own circle, Edward leapt high and free, his face one of pure bliss. It seemed like the second time tonight that I could not help but laugh with glee as I danced.

As the music darkened for a moment, we stayed at opposite sides, I moving in place on my pointes, my arms in an oval above my head, and Edward tiptoeing, his arms out wide, showing all his power.

The music broke out of its hush into its high notes again, and finally we were rushing to each other, I spinning into a pirouette as our hands met. We toured the room, Edward lifting me in high leaps and complex catches which seemed like the easiest thing in the World. Everything was natural, everything was meant to be...he twirled me in a tight set of step turns as the music twinkled up even higher. As they reached their breaking point, his hands quickly went to my waist, and he lifted me into the air, as if I were a bird he was setting free. I let out another exhilarated breath, feeling so joyous...

But then the music began to soften, turning delicate again. My breathing slowed. Gently, Edward turned me so that I faced him. I put my hands on his shoulders. Slowly, ever so slowly, he brought me down his body, first my legs and then my stomach gliding down his chest until my toes touched the ground once more. I looked at him, realizing that here I had something as precious as the melody described. How? How was I worthy of this?

I turned myself away from him as the notes gently dropped. My eyes closed. Was this really possible? This connection? Really?

But Edward stepped closer behind me. His hand gently slid down my wrist, his fingers linking with mine. He knew my thoughts...he knew my worry...the other hand did the same. As a new chord played, he wrapped his arms, joined with mine, across my chest, holding me against him. I felt his warmth...his trust...his love...

I turned to face him, unshed tears suddenly warm in my eyes and a smile curved on my lips. He gazed at me with all the emotion in the World before the music flowed into its final tumble of notes, quick and yet deeper than the previous times. Joy running as deep as the heart.

Together, Edward and I danced those final few bars, letting our very essences entwine.

And as the last chord played, we held each other, my leg up in an arabesque, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. And as the final note faded, our lips met, sealing whatever fate awaited us.

Clair de Lune...

Well guys, that is it.

I started writing this one night after watching Secret Lives of Dancers...and here we are now!

Thank you so much for everything. You guys, people who I've never even met, have been my biggest inspiration for this. I can't find a big enough way to say thank you...

Heh, anyway. Please, if you can spare a moment, flick me one last review!

If you've followed Clair along and you haven't sent me a review yet (oh yeah, I know there are a few of you about :P), now's the time!

If you have been reviewing, trust me, I recognize you each review and I love to hear how you follow the story! Tell me your end thoughts!

Thank you once again. I couldn't have asked for a better audience...

So go forth! Tell your friends! Reread it without all the month long gaps! Write your own!