Disclaimer: How on earth could I own Naruto? I do not own 'Last Carnival', 'The Little Prince' or 'The Steadfast Tin Soldier' either!
A/N: Hey everyone! This story is not a mash story, so it is something new of mine. I was inspired by Norihiro Tsuru's 'Last Carnival', a beautiful European-esque instrumental with an absolutely gorgeous violin and piano in it. I really encourage you to check it out! You won't regret it! There's no words to it, but if you listen to it as you read this, you'll get the exact mood of the story I was aiming for. I'll explain more of how I interpreted the song at the end.
I was also partially inspired by the fairytale of 'The Steadfast Tin Soldier' after watching clips of Disney's Fantasia. Sadly, there's no tin soldier in here, but there is a lovely young toymaker to replace him :D And I've also been rereading 'The Little Prince' again, so if you catch a little Prince reference here or there, it comes from my love for the little golden haired prince :D
Enjoy and please, review!
In Porcelain and Moonbeams
He was a toymaker. With his pale, skillful fingers, he made thousands of toys; tin soldiers, painted horses, bouncing balls, jack-in-the-boxes with their coils and springs, golden haired ragdolls and their frilled dresses. With his fingers, he could easily have taken on a more skilled trade that would've brought him more food to the table than the simple loaf of bread and cheese downed by a glass of water. Perhaps a musician of some sort. A pianist, or a violinist. But it never occurred to him that he could've done so. The handsome young man had his toys to make.
He made toys for the children, whom so often came down to the village square just to gape through the clean windows of his little shop at his lovely toys garnished with silver bells and golden lace and everything in between. They pointed at the painted wooden swords and shields and begged their mothers to buy them for twopence each. Too often, they were denied until Christmastime or birthdays, and during those times his little shop was filled with brightness and laughter, and he allowed himself a small plum pudding at dinner as a reward.
But other times, his shop was silent and dark, save for the sunlight that poured through the clean windows on a sunny day. 'Master Sasori', he often heard the children call to him outside the windows, begging him to perhaps give away toys he no longer wanted. The pale skinned, black haired man smiled at them but made no reply, and with no answer, the children soon departed. Sasori turned to his latest creation.
She was a dainty little bone china ballerina, as long and slender and white as his index finger. For now, she was completely bare and unpainted. A mere porcelain skeleton, covered with a layer of porcelain dust. He dampened a towel, and gently cleaned her. He made sure to clean behind her ears and under her chin, between her delicate fingers and behind her ankles. Finally satisfied, he set her down, and she posed prettily, her legs crossed and on her toes, and her arms curved sideways before her.
He tipped a tiny brush in black ink, and outlined two almond-shaped eyes, and a tiny, pouting mouth. It was a painstaking process to paint a doll so small so perfectly, but Sasori did it, and when he was done, he saw that it was already past his bedtime.
Pleased with his progress, he said, "goodnight," to his little doll before setting her on the windowsill of his bedroom where the moonlight shone in, so that he could see her at all times, and quietly went to sleep.
As the handsome young toymaker slept, with tousled red hair in his eyes, something strange was occurring on his windowsill. The moonbeams seemed to shine even brighter with each passing moment, and they made the ballerina gleam with an ethereal light. The light seemed to go inside her, and suddenly, a dainty finger twitched.
The bone white fingers separated from their previously locked hold, and the ballerina bent and unbent her slender legs, shaking the stiffness out of them. Her lips parted, and she pursed and relaxed them. She moved her arms and rotated them, then cocked her little head on both sides and turned it.
Then, she began to dance on the windowsill.
A/N:
Hello everyone! Let's talk dolls and fairytales in this chapter!
Starting with dolls, I had in mind a mix of a BJD-doll and a Bisque China doll. Imagine the face of a BJD doll (they're so beautiful, go google it! It will blow your mind :O) with no eyes (No holes! That'd be so creepy) and nothing painted on. Like an unpainted Bisque doll. The doll is white, and is about as tall as a pencil. Right now, the doll has no hair, no eyes, no lips, clothes, nothing. A bald, naked doll. haha!
For fairytales, I really do love 'The Steadfast Tin Soldier'. It's such a beautiful and sad love story. I can't believe there's no Disney film made for it. It's perfect material for one! In the story, at midnight, the toys come to life. In this one however, she comes to life purely by moonlight and magic.
Please review! -hands out skittles-