The Palais Garnier has had the same seven dancers for as long as anyone can remember. Maeve has been training her entire life for this- though, she never expected to actually get a role as prima ballerina for their first season of the new Tchaikovsky ballet. After all, the troupe has not seen a new performer in decades. Though she hurdles towards a world of gilded extravagance (and no short amount of hard work), she does NOT expect to find the conditions the other dancers suffer under- with a cruel maître de ballet. Can she pull her fellow dancers out of this life before it is too late? (This is a BG3 AU fanfiction, set in an alternate version of 1893 Paris. It is the most niche and self-indulgent thing I've ever written. Enjoy!)

It's going to rain tonight. Unfortunately, everyone else in camp has gone to sleep... Aside from Astarion. Tav needs to seek refuge in his tent, or get left out in the downpour. Its a shame their relationship is a tad... Complicated.