Disclaimer: FFX-2, all characters and places mentioned in this story are property of SquareEnix.
Author's Note: I worked really hard on this, and this is my first FF fic, so I hope y'all like it.
A Thousand Pieces Of My Heart
Unbelievable sights
Indescribable feeling
Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling
Through an endless diamond sky...
-Aladdin
Prologue
The little girl ran breathlessly into the small, tumbledown room. She was dripping big droplets of water, which also trickled down her face. Little wonder; a huge storm was halfway through raging outside. The room itself was not dry; cracks in the 'roof' let down lots of rainwater, She clutched a small, soggy piece of bread in her hand.
"Mama?" she called out. She had a peculiarly sweet voice.
She ran to the figure that huddled on the dusty, moth-eaten rugs in the corner of the tiny room. "I've found some food for you, so you won't feel hungry anymore." She was hungry herself, but that didn't matter. She thrust the slice at her mother. Her mother made no movement, nor did she open her eyes. "She's asleep," murmured the girl. She placed the slice of bread gently beside the sleeping woman and stood up.
"She's dead, child."
Meetings
Lenne peered nervously out at the crowd from behind the thick velvet curtains. Once more, she marveled at the size of the crowd. She had expected it to be nothing more than fifty people at most, and yet here was the auditorium more than half full already.
She reminded herself that Uncle was a very influential man. Thinking of Uncle made her anxiety reappear. Uncle wasn't here; he was in the crowd. And she was all alone. In a few minutes, she would have to go out there and sing. Lenne told herself to take deep breaths, and she fiddled with the hem of her songstress skirt.
Again she scanned the crowd, observing certain interesting individuals. She saw Uncle's business partner with his wife and children. So he has come! How nice of him! Her eyes roved on, and by fell on a blond haired boy who had obnoxiously taken over two seats, for himself and his feet respectively. How rude of him! Lenne thought in disgust.
Lenne realized that the boy was actually staring at her, with a smile that could only be described as scornful on his face. It was almost a sneer. She scowled at him and shut the curtains hastily. To think she would have to perform in front of people like that.
Since childhood, she had loved singing, although she had not had time or cause to sing in her younger years. It was by chance that Uncle had heard her sing, and he had told her it was beautiful voice that had to be nurtured.
And today he had fixed a concert for her. An actually concert. Lenne set her jaw stubbornly. She had to do this- for Uncle. For a man who had taken one little girl off the streets of Zanarkand and given her all she could possible want, and more. But most of all for loving her like a daughter.
She reopened the curtains again, and spotted Uncle warmly shaking hands with some newcomers. Unbidden, her eyes fell on the blond boy with the messy locks once more. His eyes were shut. Lenne sarcastically wondered if he was having a nice nap.
As the host for the evening stepped onto the stage, Lenne queasily turned away. Her initial plan was to faint, but she didn't seem to be even feeling faint. Her head then swiveled nervously, looking for an escape route, a fire escape –anything.
"Presenting...Lenne!" The man's voice ripped through the tiny auditorium and aroused a loud cheer. Lenne groaned. There was no escape.
"For Uncle," she told herself firmly. Summoning up all her courage, she stepped through the curtains and into the applause and bright stage lights. Unaccistomed to it, she blinked. She then looked at the crowd with what she hoped was a smile frozen on her face, she caught sight of Uncle sitting at the very front. He was beaming proudly and fondly up at her, full of confidence and joy for her. Taking a deep breath, she gripped the microphone tightly, squaring for her first song.
For Uncle.
Alezander Damer watched his niece sing proudly. Occasionally, he took a look at those around him, confirming that they too were showing proper appreciation and admiration for her. He fully intended to throw his nastiest, most disappointed look at anyone who didn't. Luckily for him, or perhaps for those around him, no one had merited such a punishment yet, for they all wore smiles on their faces; in varying degrees of wideness.
The average width of the smiles satisfied Alezander Damer. He returned to listening to Lenne sing.
Till this day he remembered the day he had chanced upon her singing like a nightingale in the garden. He had not been expected there. Astounded, he had paused to listen, and had almost immediately known his little niece's future. He had also known that he had the power and means to make that future a certainty.
And so he had.
That is my niece, he thought proudly, Up there. That is my niece who is amazing five hundred odd people with her talent right now. Alezander almost always forgot that Lenne was in fact only adopted by him, and biologically not his niece at all. But then, he sometimes forgot that she was his niece. He considered her a daughter.
Smiling happily to himself, he thought of that wonderful secret which would confront her after this concert was over.
He was a well-known business man throughout Zanarkand and beyond, well known for his shrewd deals and his wisdom in dire situations. He was one of those men who had started out small, and made it to the top of an empire that could crumble any second.
But few people could have recognized him then.
He stretched out luxuriously, ignoring the pointed stares the people surrounding him were hurling at him. Someday, he often promised himself, someday he would find out why. Someday.
Right now, he was relaxing. He let the music fill him. When his father had firmly told him that he could not avoid this concert, that it was a personal favor to that rich tycoon Damer, he had groaned. But what the heck? It wasn't so bad! He was tone deaf, as he comfortably admitted to himself, but even he could tell that this Lenne's voice was something else.
He cocked an eye open. She was pretty, too. Just not his type; he liked his girls bold and aware of today's trends. She looked too nervous and intimidated to interest him. She was probably a good girl.
He shuddered involuntarily.
She held the last note for four counts. Finally, both her voice and the music died out. But a new sound arose; five times as loud as either music or voice. Applause, wild screams and catcalls.
For her; all for her.
She smiled, and she wished her smile could widen. All her fear and doubts had evaporated. Tears threatened to drown her vision, and it was with tiny gurgles of laughter that she forced them down. She was glad; the audience had smiled with her.
Snatching the microphone off it's stand, Lenne did a very dangerous thing. "Thank you so much! I'm so glad you all liked it! I really am!" she cried out impulsively. Dangerous- as she could have burst into tears any second.
With one last wave and bow, Lenne scurried back behind the curtains. The noise was still there, although now it was more like a babble of excited whispers. Grabbing the velvet curtains again, she let the thick material soak up her tears. Her private cries were always quiet.
"Well, if you didn't like it, Lenny-girl, we won't try it again," said a somber voice behind her. Amidst her tears she burst out into a laughter only one person could evoke within her.
"Oh Uncle!" she half laughed and half cried as she deserted the curtain to fling herself at him. She didn't need to see the twinkle in his eye to know it would be there. "Stop that! You know why I'm crying! It was so wonderful...not just the singing- that's always wonderful- but the fact that they liked me!"
"Loved you," corrected Uncle, smiling down at her. "So I'm assuming you don't want to stop? That's fine by me!" Lenne laughed again, this time stepping back to grin at Uncle.
"I did it for you, Uncle. Are you happy?" Lenne asked him candidly, childishly almost. Truly, Uncle's opinion was the one she had been waiting breathlessly for, the opinion that truly mattered to her. Uncle's reply smile was answer enough. Only it seemed slightly...mischievous?
"Twice as much as you, dear," he replied softly. He was touched. "Now, wipe your eyes. You can't come to the post-concert party looking like that!" Lenne's jaw dropped, and she jabbed a finger accusingly at Uncle.
"I knew it! I knew you were hiding something!" Her elation at having discovered Uncle's wily trick was short-lived. It gave way to horror. "I can't! It will be one of those parties with lots of silverware won't it?" That part of Lenne would never die. She shied away from most things too grand and rich to be of importance to her, and silverware was amongst the list. "Oh Uncle! Why did you do this?" Her wide eyes were reproachful now.
Uncle sighed amusedly. "Girlie, I did not arrange it. Certain appreciating members of the audience did, and I'm not even going to bother telling you how rude it would be to decline. Now move!" Steering her by the shoulders, he pushed her gently.
"They did?" she asked doubtfully.
"They did," he replied firmly.
Lenne's last thought before she stepped into a grand looking dining room of sorts was satisfaction. I'll bet that showed that horrible boy!
