Where There's Music
New, very second original story (first one did not turn out very well, eheh. :P)
Title: Where There's Music
Author: chudari
Rating: T-ish; PG-13
Words: 4000
Warnings: Hormonal talking here and there, but there's a reason for it.
If war was a person, what would it be? Would it be Athena, the goddess of fair war and wisdom, or Ares, the god of the bloodiest wars? Would war be a young little boy who thought of nothing but wanting to be the winner in anything? One that found his happiness in provoking the provoked and stopped at nothing until he was the victor, even if it meant baring the blood of his own comrades? Would war be a somber girl that was phased by nothing with her only target being slaughter and bloodshed?
Who would stop War? Would War just be the child it was, turning brother against sister and friend against friend? What would stop war? Music?Music is a radiant, mature child whose gorgeous voice and graceful beauty lulls any soul. Music's full voice and luscious beauty soothes any soul. Music mollifies the worst of problems, being that whose melody sweetens the bitterest of old wounds. Music is one who spreads the kindred of all understanding for those.
Until the birth of War corrupts it.
-
Chapter 1: Hey Mom, I've Got a Tattoo. Am I a Delinquent Yet?
The light sun gleamed, spreading light as its rays danced along the solid, firm earth. The earth sat only motionless, if not for the friendly breeze of none other than the wind. The wind caused motion, spreading through the rich land and gliding across and metamorphosing liquid into ice. The ice was easily melted and breakable, changing into water with the warm touch of the sun. Far off in the distance, the sweet sound of music blended into the background, as if dancing with the surroundings.
Belle fidgeted in the light dress and the hat that had been chosen out for her. She smoothed out her skirt, trying her best to sit down properly, yet could only grimace with her greatest disdain. She would have ran away the first chance she got, following the wind and laughing along with her other friends if it had not been for the fact that getting away would have been the hardest part.
Anywhere she went, Belle would be followed, whether it be from one of the guards that was supposed to keep her in place or another follower that had fallen for her. She didn't see why, either. It was true, her frame completely made her feminine. She was scrawny, small and petite, with the dress clinging to her in light ease. The ribbon tied around her neck showed she was rich, as her mother had said, and her long chocolate brown hair fell in rich locks to her waist, giving her femininity more exposure than she would have wanted.
At this age, it was when her sisters were allowed to wear makeup, not that Belle had cared. They had been told that they were allowed to, but she had not. As it was, when either of her sisters suggested it, the other denied the fact she needed it in the first place.
That was what the twelve-year-old was fed up with.
She didn't want to be the princess of the family. Belle disliked being the little doll who seemed like she'd be easily wounded by anything. Her parents wanted her to sing, and as handy as it came in, Belle didn't like it. She wanted to play an instrument-an instrument she was hoping to be able to use for battle soon. She wasn't an angel and she wasn't the little girl who would grow up to be just another pretty face her parents thought she was. Just the mention of being such a child angered her so.
So, being at this wedding reception, dressed up in assorted ribbons and frilly things did nothing but anger her. Even if the fabric looked like it fit her well, it only did the opposite. She just wondered how she was able to wear it for the past four hours.
Suck it up, Belle remembered telling herself with great rage. A true warrior is able to endure whatever comes to her. She shut her eyes tightly before opening them again and looking at her parents. They chattered endlessly with other guests, leaving her to mingle with other kids.
The girl pouted, feeling herself seep into anger. She felt like kicking someone and beating them up. They promised they'd be home by now so that she could wander off. She didn't want to be at this wedding. Who's wedding was it, anyways?
“W-Would you like to dance w-with me?”
Belle cocked her head over to the voice. It was another boy. She only frowned, wishing to herself that they would buzz off and get a clue when she wasn't interested. Sadly enough, that wasn't true. Looking back to her parents, she noted how they were just chattering the day away, not giving a crap about what would happen to her. She sighed, finally giving in.
The boy's face turned a darker red than it had been before as Belle placed her hand in his. She'd stomp on his feet clumsily, making an excuse that she never learned. That'd at least get some of her anger out, right?
As they stepped into the dark green grass, her hands over his neck like she'd seen her sisters do plenty times before and his hands respectfully wrapped around her waist, she closed her eyes. The piano just sounded gorgeous, she noted. Whoever was playing it was doing a good job. A smile came onto her face. She would play an instrument too, one that was as beautiful as the sound of a piano.
She just wondered what element she would conjure. Earth? Water? Fire? Wind? However it happened, she just hoped it would happen soon. She turned her head to the pianist as he finished his song and could only smile again. The one playing the piano was the groom, most likely in celebration of his marriage to his new wife. Although she didn't understand it, she was willing to admit that it was probably very romantic to have your groom play you a song on your wedding day.
Immediately, Belle felt the smile on her face drop as the hands of the boy she was dancing with went down to her- “What do you think you're doing?!” She roughly shoved the boy away and hugged herself before anything else. She just couldn't believe a boy her age would be touching her in ways and fingering places. Her face went beet red before she gave her angriest of glares.
“Ouch...,” the boy mumbled. He rubbed his head and looked up at her. His face was flushed and he let out a low moan. His eyes trailed across her petite body and he could do nothing but moan once more.
Belle shrieked before kicking the boy once again. “You pig!”
“Ow! Hey, cut it out!” the boy shouted back. Instead, Belle only harshened her blow. It was just downright embarrassing that he was trying to rape her!
Two of her sisters came to their aide, pulling their sister away before she could do any more damage.
“Cut it out!” Mimi hissed to her sister. “That's the groom's little brother!”
Belle only scowled, shouting out loud for whoever to hear, “I don't care! He harassed me!”
Rosabella tightened her grip on her sister and calmly murmured to her, “You'll start something!”
“He deserves it!”
“Saru! Are you okay?” Said groom ran up to his little brother from the pianist's seat and gave him a concerned look. He turned his head over to Belle and her two sisters before glaring. “Do you realize what you've done?!”
“Yeah, I kicked a pervert's butt,” Belle bluntly snapped back. She gritted her teeth and felt the blush upon her cheeks. “He deserved it!”
“This is my wedding and just because you have such a face does not give you the right to offend my family,” the groom coldly sneered. He jabbed his finger towards the gate of the park. “I want you and your family out!”
“Sweet,” Belle muttered under her breath in excitement. The second she said that though, she regretted it as Mimi and Rosabella gave her a glare to shut up. Belle crumbled under them, only giving a pout. Sighing, her eyebrows furrowed. “Can't you let us stay?”
“Out before I force you!” Belle only flinched under such a tone.
A breeze picked up behind her as she felt rage churn in her gut. She gritted her teeth and took a step forward, ready to yell. “Hey-”
“Do you really think that you should speak to a lady that way? Not to mention, a kid?”
Murmurs were heard, and Belle could only turn her head. The minute she did, she could only snort about the person who decided to stand up for her. He had exotic, purplish blue hair, and like the rest of the men there, he was wearing a tux. He stood out, wearing white instead of black and an arrogant smirk.
The groom gave him a glare before sneering, “And who the hell do you think you are, punk? You weren't on the invitation list!”
“Someone who doesn't know me. That's great.” the young boy only chuckled. He slowly walked to the piano and sat down in the seat as if no scene had been created. He closed his eyes, pressing his hands over the keys and smoothly playing a melody.
Belle couldn't help but shudder. The tune he played sent chills down her spine. The wind that blew around only worsened and the shining sun above seemed to disappear into nothing but gray clouds.
“What do you think you're doing? Get the hell out of the park!” the groom couldn't help but snap once more.
“I'm Piper's kid,” the boy shrugged his shoulders. His melody crescendoed, echoing through the park sharply. He let a breath out and through everything, it was possible to see the release of air. The groom grew silent. The kid smiled, not even bothering to look at the dumbfounded expression on the other's face. “Tell you what, if I can defeat you here without moving from where I am, they're allowed to stay. If you aren't unconscious in the next five minutes, then the bill you'll owe for the reception will be dropped.”
“Really now? I accept.”
The music got more jagged. Through the thin material that Belle wore, she could only shudder, her knees bunching together from such weather. The gray clouds twisted into turmoil. The blades of wind slashed through the crowd, bringing much of the decorations down with them. Belle only squeaked, keeping her hands over her dress before exposure.
“What's going on?!” Belle muttered under her breath. She looked back at the pianist, eyebrows furrowed. “Is this his doing?”
The boy stayed calm, his fingers harshly pressing the keys. Snow fell from the sky before Belle even had to blink, blending with the harsh winds. She stood there completely unfazed by the daunting winds, only the fact that the great warmth that everyone was used to was replaced by the chilling ice.
The snow piled on the ground quickly, before anyone had the chance to move. The minute it did, it became a form of something that no one could recognize. A... penguin?
Belle's eyebrows quirked the minute she saw it. From what she noticed, murmurs proved that they question the young teen's abilities as well. The penguin waddled up to the groom, blankly staring at him.
The groom smirked immediately, pointing to the penguin and laughing. “You call this your weapon? This thing is nothing but a lousy piece of shi-OOOW!” Before he knew it, the penguin bit him harshly, digging into the groom's hand with his beak. The groom shook his hand harshly, gritting his teeth. “GET THIS DAMN THING OFF!”
Belle bit her lip, trying her best to stifle her laughter. The penguin was small, but did it hurt that much? She put her hand over her mouth, deteriorating into nothing more but snickers. She stopped the minute she heard the music stop. She looked back to the groom immediately. The second she did, all she saw was the kid's foot kicking the groom's jaw harshly and the man falling to the ground, unconscious with blood seeping through his wound.
The penguin let go of the groom's hand before returning to the pianist. A smug smile fell upon the kid's face as he stared at the groom. “His name is Crescend. I suggest not making fun of him next time, sir. That'll be your current bill and another thousand for back-sassing me.” He looked back onto the ground and looked back to the bystanders. “Enjoy your meal. Buy something expensive for the groom her.” With that, he left.
Belle stood speechless, along with the rest of the crowd. Immediately, she broke into a run. “Hey, wait!”
-
Forte smiled at Crescend, patting the penguin on the head before he disappeared along with the trail of snow. He only smiled, breathing in the thin, cold air. “You did good.”
“Wait! You with the gay haircut!”
The boy stopped in his tracks. He was guessing that was him. He cursed under his breath, looking down on the ground before turning around. He didn't dare look up, knowing it wouldn't matter if he did. He stared at the shadow of the petite girl in front of him and sneered, “What do you want?”
From her shadow, he saw her putting her hands on her hips. “That's not very nice to save a girl and then treat her like dirt.”
Forte snorted. “I don't do the whole damsel-in-distress thing, sweetie. It's my father's land and I'm just told once in a while to protect it.”
“I just want to know! Were you the one who caused the snow to appear all of a sudden? You know, by playing the piano?”
“Yes.” Short and to the point. That was all that Forte cared about so long as he could keep away from her.
“Can you teach me?”
“No.” He folded his arms, still looking down at the younger girl's shadow. “Little kids don't play with big weapons. That being the matter, women belong in kitchens.”
Her stance changed. She stood, offended by everything. Her face flushed. “Excuse me? Music is something everyone enjoys, isn't it?”
“It is. War isn't. Now shoo and find your mommy and daddy, little girl,” Forte muttered coldly. She scoffed at him, pouting at the slightest before leaving. Forte only closed his eyes, blinding himself from watching her shadow to leave.
Opening them, he made his way down the dirt streets, undoing the bow tie. He made a mental note to feed Crescend once they got home and to take off the monkey suit. Forte dodged many people before making his way to his own house. As he reached out for the doorknob, he noticed the twinkle in his skin. His eyes recognized the eighth note that had embedded itself on his hand.
Quickly, he rolled up his sleeve and looked suspiciously at his arm. He grimaced. There was a whole measure of music that smeared his skin. Forte rubbed his hand, trying his best to get it off. No avail. He grumbled how annoying it was before going inside for a rag and a water canteen. He rubbed the wet rag on his hand, but only found it to be a worse attempt to take it off. The music was there, whether he liked it or not.
Forte gritted his teeth and sighed in frustration. As he turned his head, he saw no one else but his father. He arched his eyebrow as the older man gave him a mused look. “What?” he demanded.
His father only smirked. “So I see you've joined the battles too.”
“What battles?” Forte grumbled. He stared at the notes before looking back at his old man.
His dad leaned against the dusty wall and smiled fully. “Didn't you hear the news? The King died. The battles are on.”
“That's insane,” the teenager snapped. He turned his head back over to his father, eyebrows furrowed. “I haven't battled anyone at all.”
“Then what about the reception you messed up and the groom who's seeking medical attention as we speak?”
“Damn. You heard that fast?”
“Didn't need to, son. I could make a snowman out of what was on the street.” His dad only smiled and let out a small chuckle. “If only your mother could see you now. A gentleman ready to be heir to the throne.”
Forte only snorted, dropping both the canteen and rag. He turned his head, rolling his eyes. “You know for a fact that fighting is just child's play. The whole concept is stupid. We've been at war with everyone outside of our country for years now. If anything, we're to make peace.”
“Then say that as king,” his father pressed on. He smiled. “This is a chance to prove your skills, Forte.”
Forte shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I don't need to prove my skills to anyone.”
“Then you should know, it's a life or death situation.” Forte turned his head, looking at his father carefully. The man's expression saddened. “Your grandfather was dragged into the war because of one measly battle too. He had a life already with me born and refused to join after one battle that dragged him in. He's sleeping with the fishes now, you know.”
Forte rolled his eyes. “I'd rather die then become some person part of this.”
“Then tell them. Go straight to the source in Maestoso, Forte,” his father smiled knowingly.
“Let's not and say we did.” Forte shook off the coat of his tuxedo, hanging it on the wooden chair next to him. No matter how many times he tried, his eyes only landed on his hand and the measure full of notes. His jaw tightened as a frown formed on his face. “This is stupid.”
“That's what your sister said.” Forte stiffened as his father continued on speaking. “She left for Maestoso bright and early this morning to get this straightened out.”
“...good. Then I'm not the only one in this family who's against this.”
His father looked at him in utter surprise. He arched his eyebrow suspiciously. “And you're not going to stay in the war?”
“Not at all,” Forte turned back to his father, a smug smirk on his face. “I plan to beat her there.”
-
Belle was unbelievably pissed. The whole carriage ride home, all she could think about was the teenager with the penguin and how much of an ass he was. First, he was a gentleman. Then, he shrugged her off as if she were some kind of jacket only to be messed with when it was needed! She squirmed and groaned, complaining the most about him.
Mimi, Rosabella, and Linda only exchanged looks and giggles, noticing the fidgeting in their baby sister. Mimi looked at the youngest girl with an amused smile. “It seems you've fallen rather hard, don't you think, baby sis?”
“And here we thought she'd be like this for rest of her life. Oh look, she's blushing,” Rosabella remarked. She let out another giggle.
Linda, the oldest, smiled fully before patting Belle on the head. “It was only time she'd find someone she'd like. She is the most beautiful of all three of us, after all.” That stopped the other two older sisters immediately. They pouted, but said no word because they knew it was true.
“Beauty this and beauty that, it's nothing to get so worked up about,” Belle grumbled. She stood up in the carriage and raised her fists angrily. “So what if I get a little dirt on my face? All it's gonna do is wreck this stupid dress. As it is, I hate it!”
All three of them only glared at her. Before anything, the carriage went over a bump, causing Belle to fall flat back into her seat with a great big “oof!”
Linda sighed and ran her hand through Belle's long hair, clicking her tongue. “We have quite the Helen of Troy in our group, don't we, girls?”
“She'll crack,” Rosabella grinned knowingly before shrugging and closed her eyes. “Some day.”
“Beeeh! No way!” Belle could only pout, cocking her head into a different direction. “I'm tired of it! I'm tired of being the baby of the family and acting like some girly girl!”
“Even in your acting, you're not fit for any play of mine,” Mimi smiled knowingly. “Quite the boy for a girl, Belle.”
Belle turned red. “Just because I act like this doesn't mean that I'm a boy! Girls can be tough too!”
“Yes, but dear, you weren't even able to put that dress on until one of us helped you,” Linda noted. She arched her eyebrow, giving the girl a suspicious look. “If you need help just to be dressed, do you think you would be fit to fight?”
Her younger sister only turned darker. “Shut up, all of you!”
They sat silently, until Mimi perked up, “So, have you had your period yet?”
“I SAID SHUT UP!”
...
To be honest, Belle was getting fed up with all of it. She hated every single suggestion by her family to “settle down” and disliked how her sisters wouldn't even bother to pick up a finger. They meant well, she would admit, but not well enough.
That night, she didn't give a crap about what would happen. That night, she decided that the life that everyone wanted for her was useless.
That night she was planning to run away.
Belle pulled her long hair into the messiest ponytail she could conjure. Looking through her chest of clothes, she could only frown. The only thing she didn't have that was a dress was a tunic. The only pants she had were so short on her that wearing the tunic would make it look like she wasn't wearing pants as it was.
Grumbling angrily about how it would have to do for now, Belle had put both on, along with a sack of her belongings. She crawled across the ground of the room she shared with all of her sisters, then went to the main chest in the middle of everything.
Her cheeks only flared as she stared at the chest before looking inside for sanitary napkins. She prayed, hoping that if this would work out, she'd finally have what she needed to survive. She squirmed, grabbing the first one she saw under the moonlight and stuffed it into her bag.
“Ngh....”
Belle's body stiffened. Slowly, she turned around, but only sighed in relief to see all of her sisters asleep. Quickly, she got up from the ground, putting on her most rugged of boots (which were about as rugged as what she had worn to the reception) and sneaked out the door.
The pianist, Belle reminded herself. A smile played upon her face. If I find the pianist, then he can tutor me! She let out a quiet, cocky laugh as she continued her way through the village. “I'll pester him until he does. Then, I'll be as powerful as he is playing the piano!”
She found herself at the outskirts of the village, the small buildings all trapped at the valley of a hill. A smile played on Belle's face. A little farther ahead from her, she saw the silhouette of who she had been searching for in the first place. She took steps forward, “Hey-!”
“Belle? Belle!”
Belle froze at her spot. Hesitantly, she looked over her shoulder, her eyebrows furrowed with a pout on her childish demeanor. She could see some of the people coming out of their houses with her name being shouted louder and louder. Without a doubt, she sneered, rage boiling in her stomach.
Belle broke out into a run after the pianist.
Title: Where There's Music
Author: chudari
Rating: T-ish; PG-13
Words: 4000
Warnings: Hormonal talking here and there, but there's a reason for it.
If war was a person, what would it be? Would it be Athena, the goddess of fair war and wisdom, or Ares, the god of the bloodiest wars? Would war be a young little boy who thought of nothing but wanting to be the winner in anything? One that found his happiness in provoking the provoked and stopped at nothing until he was the victor, even if it meant baring the blood of his own comrades? Would war be a somber girl that was phased by nothing with her only target being slaughter and bloodshed?
Who would stop War? Would War just be the child it was, turning brother against sister and friend against friend? What would stop war? Music?Music is a radiant, mature child whose gorgeous voice and graceful beauty lulls any soul. Music's full voice and luscious beauty soothes any soul. Music mollifies the worst of problems, being that whose melody sweetens the bitterest of old wounds. Music is one who spreads the kindred of all understanding for those.
Until the birth of War corrupts it.
-
Chapter 1: Hey Mom, I've Got a Tattoo. Am I a Delinquent Yet?
The light sun gleamed, spreading light as its rays danced along the solid, firm earth. The earth sat only motionless, if not for the friendly breeze of none other than the wind. The wind caused motion, spreading through the rich land and gliding across and metamorphosing liquid into ice. The ice was easily melted and breakable, changing into water with the warm touch of the sun. Far off in the distance, the sweet sound of music blended into the background, as if dancing with the surroundings.
Belle fidgeted in the light dress and the hat that had been chosen out for her. She smoothed out her skirt, trying her best to sit down properly, yet could only grimace with her greatest disdain. She would have ran away the first chance she got, following the wind and laughing along with her other friends if it had not been for the fact that getting away would have been the hardest part.
Anywhere she went, Belle would be followed, whether it be from one of the guards that was supposed to keep her in place or another follower that had fallen for her. She didn't see why, either. It was true, her frame completely made her feminine. She was scrawny, small and petite, with the dress clinging to her in light ease. The ribbon tied around her neck showed she was rich, as her mother had said, and her long chocolate brown hair fell in rich locks to her waist, giving her femininity more exposure than she would have wanted.
At this age, it was when her sisters were allowed to wear makeup, not that Belle had cared. They had been told that they were allowed to, but she had not. As it was, when either of her sisters suggested it, the other denied the fact she needed it in the first place.
That was what the twelve-year-old was fed up with.
She didn't want to be the princess of the family. Belle disliked being the little doll who seemed like she'd be easily wounded by anything. Her parents wanted her to sing, and as handy as it came in, Belle didn't like it. She wanted to play an instrument-an instrument she was hoping to be able to use for battle soon. She wasn't an angel and she wasn't the little girl who would grow up to be just another pretty face her parents thought she was. Just the mention of being such a child angered her so.
So, being at this wedding reception, dressed up in assorted ribbons and frilly things did nothing but anger her. Even if the fabric looked like it fit her well, it only did the opposite. She just wondered how she was able to wear it for the past four hours.
Suck it up, Belle remembered telling herself with great rage. A true warrior is able to endure whatever comes to her. She shut her eyes tightly before opening them again and looking at her parents. They chattered endlessly with other guests, leaving her to mingle with other kids.
The girl pouted, feeling herself seep into anger. She felt like kicking someone and beating them up. They promised they'd be home by now so that she could wander off. She didn't want to be at this wedding. Who's wedding was it, anyways?
“W-Would you like to dance w-with me?”
Belle cocked her head over to the voice. It was another boy. She only frowned, wishing to herself that they would buzz off and get a clue when she wasn't interested. Sadly enough, that wasn't true. Looking back to her parents, she noted how they were just chattering the day away, not giving a crap about what would happen to her. She sighed, finally giving in.
The boy's face turned a darker red than it had been before as Belle placed her hand in his. She'd stomp on his feet clumsily, making an excuse that she never learned. That'd at least get some of her anger out, right?
As they stepped into the dark green grass, her hands over his neck like she'd seen her sisters do plenty times before and his hands respectfully wrapped around her waist, she closed her eyes. The piano just sounded gorgeous, she noted. Whoever was playing it was doing a good job. A smile came onto her face. She would play an instrument too, one that was as beautiful as the sound of a piano.
She just wondered what element she would conjure. Earth? Water? Fire? Wind? However it happened, she just hoped it would happen soon. She turned her head to the pianist as he finished his song and could only smile again. The one playing the piano was the groom, most likely in celebration of his marriage to his new wife. Although she didn't understand it, she was willing to admit that it was probably very romantic to have your groom play you a song on your wedding day.
Immediately, Belle felt the smile on her face drop as the hands of the boy she was dancing with went down to her- “What do you think you're doing?!” She roughly shoved the boy away and hugged herself before anything else. She just couldn't believe a boy her age would be touching her in ways and fingering places. Her face went beet red before she gave her angriest of glares.
“Ouch...,” the boy mumbled. He rubbed his head and looked up at her. His face was flushed and he let out a low moan. His eyes trailed across her petite body and he could do nothing but moan once more.
Belle shrieked before kicking the boy once again. “You pig!”
“Ow! Hey, cut it out!” the boy shouted back. Instead, Belle only harshened her blow. It was just downright embarrassing that he was trying to rape her!
Two of her sisters came to their aide, pulling their sister away before she could do any more damage.
“Cut it out!” Mimi hissed to her sister. “That's the groom's little brother!”
Belle only scowled, shouting out loud for whoever to hear, “I don't care! He harassed me!”
Rosabella tightened her grip on her sister and calmly murmured to her, “You'll start something!”
“He deserves it!”
“Saru! Are you okay?” Said groom ran up to his little brother from the pianist's seat and gave him a concerned look. He turned his head over to Belle and her two sisters before glaring. “Do you realize what you've done?!”
“Yeah, I kicked a pervert's butt,” Belle bluntly snapped back. She gritted her teeth and felt the blush upon her cheeks. “He deserved it!”
“This is my wedding and just because you have such a face does not give you the right to offend my family,” the groom coldly sneered. He jabbed his finger towards the gate of the park. “I want you and your family out!”
“Sweet,” Belle muttered under her breath in excitement. The second she said that though, she regretted it as Mimi and Rosabella gave her a glare to shut up. Belle crumbled under them, only giving a pout. Sighing, her eyebrows furrowed. “Can't you let us stay?”
“Out before I force you!” Belle only flinched under such a tone.
A breeze picked up behind her as she felt rage churn in her gut. She gritted her teeth and took a step forward, ready to yell. “Hey-”
“Do you really think that you should speak to a lady that way? Not to mention, a kid?”
Murmurs were heard, and Belle could only turn her head. The minute she did, she could only snort about the person who decided to stand up for her. He had exotic, purplish blue hair, and like the rest of the men there, he was wearing a tux. He stood out, wearing white instead of black and an arrogant smirk.
The groom gave him a glare before sneering, “And who the hell do you think you are, punk? You weren't on the invitation list!”
“Someone who doesn't know me. That's great.” the young boy only chuckled. He slowly walked to the piano and sat down in the seat as if no scene had been created. He closed his eyes, pressing his hands over the keys and smoothly playing a melody.
Belle couldn't help but shudder. The tune he played sent chills down her spine. The wind that blew around only worsened and the shining sun above seemed to disappear into nothing but gray clouds.
“What do you think you're doing? Get the hell out of the park!” the groom couldn't help but snap once more.
“I'm Piper's kid,” the boy shrugged his shoulders. His melody crescendoed, echoing through the park sharply. He let a breath out and through everything, it was possible to see the release of air. The groom grew silent. The kid smiled, not even bothering to look at the dumbfounded expression on the other's face. “Tell you what, if I can defeat you here without moving from where I am, they're allowed to stay. If you aren't unconscious in the next five minutes, then the bill you'll owe for the reception will be dropped.”
“Really now? I accept.”
The music got more jagged. Through the thin material that Belle wore, she could only shudder, her knees bunching together from such weather. The gray clouds twisted into turmoil. The blades of wind slashed through the crowd, bringing much of the decorations down with them. Belle only squeaked, keeping her hands over her dress before exposure.
“What's going on?!” Belle muttered under her breath. She looked back at the pianist, eyebrows furrowed. “Is this his doing?”
The boy stayed calm, his fingers harshly pressing the keys. Snow fell from the sky before Belle even had to blink, blending with the harsh winds. She stood there completely unfazed by the daunting winds, only the fact that the great warmth that everyone was used to was replaced by the chilling ice.
The snow piled on the ground quickly, before anyone had the chance to move. The minute it did, it became a form of something that no one could recognize. A... penguin?
Belle's eyebrows quirked the minute she saw it. From what she noticed, murmurs proved that they question the young teen's abilities as well. The penguin waddled up to the groom, blankly staring at him.
The groom smirked immediately, pointing to the penguin and laughing. “You call this your weapon? This thing is nothing but a lousy piece of shi-OOOW!” Before he knew it, the penguin bit him harshly, digging into the groom's hand with his beak. The groom shook his hand harshly, gritting his teeth. “GET THIS DAMN THING OFF!”
Belle bit her lip, trying her best to stifle her laughter. The penguin was small, but did it hurt that much? She put her hand over her mouth, deteriorating into nothing more but snickers. She stopped the minute she heard the music stop. She looked back to the groom immediately. The second she did, all she saw was the kid's foot kicking the groom's jaw harshly and the man falling to the ground, unconscious with blood seeping through his wound.
The penguin let go of the groom's hand before returning to the pianist. A smug smile fell upon the kid's face as he stared at the groom. “His name is Crescend. I suggest not making fun of him next time, sir. That'll be your current bill and another thousand for back-sassing me.” He looked back onto the ground and looked back to the bystanders. “Enjoy your meal. Buy something expensive for the groom her.” With that, he left.
Belle stood speechless, along with the rest of the crowd. Immediately, she broke into a run. “Hey, wait!”
-
Forte smiled at Crescend, patting the penguin on the head before he disappeared along with the trail of snow. He only smiled, breathing in the thin, cold air. “You did good.”
“Wait! You with the gay haircut!”
The boy stopped in his tracks. He was guessing that was him. He cursed under his breath, looking down on the ground before turning around. He didn't dare look up, knowing it wouldn't matter if he did. He stared at the shadow of the petite girl in front of him and sneered, “What do you want?”
From her shadow, he saw her putting her hands on her hips. “That's not very nice to save a girl and then treat her like dirt.”
Forte snorted. “I don't do the whole damsel-in-distress thing, sweetie. It's my father's land and I'm just told once in a while to protect it.”
“I just want to know! Were you the one who caused the snow to appear all of a sudden? You know, by playing the piano?”
“Yes.” Short and to the point. That was all that Forte cared about so long as he could keep away from her.
“Can you teach me?”
“No.” He folded his arms, still looking down at the younger girl's shadow. “Little kids don't play with big weapons. That being the matter, women belong in kitchens.”
Her stance changed. She stood, offended by everything. Her face flushed. “Excuse me? Music is something everyone enjoys, isn't it?”
“It is. War isn't. Now shoo and find your mommy and daddy, little girl,” Forte muttered coldly. She scoffed at him, pouting at the slightest before leaving. Forte only closed his eyes, blinding himself from watching her shadow to leave.
Opening them, he made his way down the dirt streets, undoing the bow tie. He made a mental note to feed Crescend once they got home and to take off the monkey suit. Forte dodged many people before making his way to his own house. As he reached out for the doorknob, he noticed the twinkle in his skin. His eyes recognized the eighth note that had embedded itself on his hand.
Quickly, he rolled up his sleeve and looked suspiciously at his arm. He grimaced. There was a whole measure of music that smeared his skin. Forte rubbed his hand, trying his best to get it off. No avail. He grumbled how annoying it was before going inside for a rag and a water canteen. He rubbed the wet rag on his hand, but only found it to be a worse attempt to take it off. The music was there, whether he liked it or not.
Forte gritted his teeth and sighed in frustration. As he turned his head, he saw no one else but his father. He arched his eyebrow as the older man gave him a mused look. “What?” he demanded.
His father only smirked. “So I see you've joined the battles too.”
“What battles?” Forte grumbled. He stared at the notes before looking back at his old man.
His dad leaned against the dusty wall and smiled fully. “Didn't you hear the news? The King died. The battles are on.”
“That's insane,” the teenager snapped. He turned his head back over to his father, eyebrows furrowed. “I haven't battled anyone at all.”
“Then what about the reception you messed up and the groom who's seeking medical attention as we speak?”
“Damn. You heard that fast?”
“Didn't need to, son. I could make a snowman out of what was on the street.” His dad only smiled and let out a small chuckle. “If only your mother could see you now. A gentleman ready to be heir to the throne.”
Forte only snorted, dropping both the canteen and rag. He turned his head, rolling his eyes. “You know for a fact that fighting is just child's play. The whole concept is stupid. We've been at war with everyone outside of our country for years now. If anything, we're to make peace.”
“Then say that as king,” his father pressed on. He smiled. “This is a chance to prove your skills, Forte.”
Forte shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I don't need to prove my skills to anyone.”
“Then you should know, it's a life or death situation.” Forte turned his head, looking at his father carefully. The man's expression saddened. “Your grandfather was dragged into the war because of one measly battle too. He had a life already with me born and refused to join after one battle that dragged him in. He's sleeping with the fishes now, you know.”
Forte rolled his eyes. “I'd rather die then become some person part of this.”
“Then tell them. Go straight to the source in Maestoso, Forte,” his father smiled knowingly.
“Let's not and say we did.” Forte shook off the coat of his tuxedo, hanging it on the wooden chair next to him. No matter how many times he tried, his eyes only landed on his hand and the measure full of notes. His jaw tightened as a frown formed on his face. “This is stupid.”
“That's what your sister said.” Forte stiffened as his father continued on speaking. “She left for Maestoso bright and early this morning to get this straightened out.”
“...good. Then I'm not the only one in this family who's against this.”
His father looked at him in utter surprise. He arched his eyebrow suspiciously. “And you're not going to stay in the war?”
“Not at all,” Forte turned back to his father, a smug smirk on his face. “I plan to beat her there.”
-
Belle was unbelievably pissed. The whole carriage ride home, all she could think about was the teenager with the penguin and how much of an ass he was. First, he was a gentleman. Then, he shrugged her off as if she were some kind of jacket only to be messed with when it was needed! She squirmed and groaned, complaining the most about him.
Mimi, Rosabella, and Linda only exchanged looks and giggles, noticing the fidgeting in their baby sister. Mimi looked at the youngest girl with an amused smile. “It seems you've fallen rather hard, don't you think, baby sis?”
“And here we thought she'd be like this for rest of her life. Oh look, she's blushing,” Rosabella remarked. She let out another giggle.
Linda, the oldest, smiled fully before patting Belle on the head. “It was only time she'd find someone she'd like. She is the most beautiful of all three of us, after all.” That stopped the other two older sisters immediately. They pouted, but said no word because they knew it was true.
“Beauty this and beauty that, it's nothing to get so worked up about,” Belle grumbled. She stood up in the carriage and raised her fists angrily. “So what if I get a little dirt on my face? All it's gonna do is wreck this stupid dress. As it is, I hate it!”
All three of them only glared at her. Before anything, the carriage went over a bump, causing Belle to fall flat back into her seat with a great big “oof!”
Linda sighed and ran her hand through Belle's long hair, clicking her tongue. “We have quite the Helen of Troy in our group, don't we, girls?”
“She'll crack,” Rosabella grinned knowingly before shrugging and closed her eyes. “Some day.”
“Beeeh! No way!” Belle could only pout, cocking her head into a different direction. “I'm tired of it! I'm tired of being the baby of the family and acting like some girly girl!”
“Even in your acting, you're not fit for any play of mine,” Mimi smiled knowingly. “Quite the boy for a girl, Belle.”
Belle turned red. “Just because I act like this doesn't mean that I'm a boy! Girls can be tough too!”
“Yes, but dear, you weren't even able to put that dress on until one of us helped you,” Linda noted. She arched her eyebrow, giving the girl a suspicious look. “If you need help just to be dressed, do you think you would be fit to fight?”
Her younger sister only turned darker. “Shut up, all of you!”
They sat silently, until Mimi perked up, “So, have you had your period yet?”
“I SAID SHUT UP!”
...
To be honest, Belle was getting fed up with all of it. She hated every single suggestion by her family to “settle down” and disliked how her sisters wouldn't even bother to pick up a finger. They meant well, she would admit, but not well enough.
That night, she didn't give a crap about what would happen. That night, she decided that the life that everyone wanted for her was useless.
That night she was planning to run away.
Belle pulled her long hair into the messiest ponytail she could conjure. Looking through her chest of clothes, she could only frown. The only thing she didn't have that was a dress was a tunic. The only pants she had were so short on her that wearing the tunic would make it look like she wasn't wearing pants as it was.
Grumbling angrily about how it would have to do for now, Belle had put both on, along with a sack of her belongings. She crawled across the ground of the room she shared with all of her sisters, then went to the main chest in the middle of everything.
Her cheeks only flared as she stared at the chest before looking inside for sanitary napkins. She prayed, hoping that if this would work out, she'd finally have what she needed to survive. She squirmed, grabbing the first one she saw under the moonlight and stuffed it into her bag.
“Ngh....”
Belle's body stiffened. Slowly, she turned around, but only sighed in relief to see all of her sisters asleep. Quickly, she got up from the ground, putting on her most rugged of boots (which were about as rugged as what she had worn to the reception) and sneaked out the door.
The pianist, Belle reminded herself. A smile played upon her face. If I find the pianist, then he can tutor me! She let out a quiet, cocky laugh as she continued her way through the village. “I'll pester him until he does. Then, I'll be as powerful as he is playing the piano!”
She found herself at the outskirts of the village, the small buildings all trapped at the valley of a hill. A smile played on Belle's face. A little farther ahead from her, she saw the silhouette of who she had been searching for in the first place. She took steps forward, “Hey-!”
“Belle? Belle!”
Belle froze at her spot. Hesitantly, she looked over her shoulder, her eyebrows furrowed with a pout on her childish demeanor. She could see some of the people coming out of their houses with her name being shouted louder and louder. Without a doubt, she sneered, rage boiling in her stomach.
Belle broke out into a run after the pianist.