[50 Prompts] Strings
Title: Strings
Author/Artist: dappledwings
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Austria/his violin
Rating: G
Warnings: Completely unbeta'd drabblefic.
Summary: Prompt 009. Strings. Drabble about a violin.
Words: 229
They quiver, responsive to touch. Austria can hear the delicate harmonics that resonate along them even as he just strokes the strings. They resonate and hum.
The violin itself is perfectly made, the beautiful markings just right. It is made for Roderich, which is why it will fit under his chin while he plays without even an ounce of discomfort. The maker was a master craftsman, Antonio Stradivari. Roderich visited the man while in Italy, a long time back. He had heard of the man after Spain had boasted about the quality of the Spanish Court instruments. Fine to touch and ever beautiful in tone. They have only matured in their wonderful sound as the instruments have gotten older.
Roderich straightens his cravat as he stands abruptly. The room is silent, as it was wont to be little more than fifteen minutes ago. He can feel the notes now, before he is even playing. Just brushing his fingers over the places that will produce the notes, and he can tell when he is flat or sharp.
He must get ready now. The violin is tuned to perfection. He has invited someone to play piano with him, as they perform Mozart’s Violin Sonata No. 35. He puts down the violin, to slip a couple of strings into the pocket of his velvety coat.
Tonight, he is one with the music.
Author/Artist: dappledwings
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Austria/his violin
Rating: G
Warnings: Completely unbeta'd drabblefic.
Summary: Prompt 009. Strings. Drabble about a violin.
Words: 229
They quiver, responsive to touch. Austria can hear the delicate harmonics that resonate along them even as he just strokes the strings. They resonate and hum.
The violin itself is perfectly made, the beautiful markings just right. It is made for Roderich, which is why it will fit under his chin while he plays without even an ounce of discomfort. The maker was a master craftsman, Antonio Stradivari. Roderich visited the man while in Italy, a long time back. He had heard of the man after Spain had boasted about the quality of the Spanish Court instruments. Fine to touch and ever beautiful in tone. They have only matured in their wonderful sound as the instruments have gotten older.
Roderich straightens his cravat as he stands abruptly. The room is silent, as it was wont to be little more than fifteen minutes ago. He can feel the notes now, before he is even playing. Just brushing his fingers over the places that will produce the notes, and he can tell when he is flat or sharp.
He must get ready now. The violin is tuned to perfection. He has invited someone to play piano with him, as they perform Mozart’s Violin Sonata No. 35. He puts down the violin, to slip a couple of strings into the pocket of his velvety coat.
Tonight, he is one with the music.