A small layer of dust had gathered on the black surface. The glint of varnish on the hard wood was inviting and soothing at the same time. The large hull that held the strings, three sturdy legs supporting the weight. It was all as she had remembered. It had once been her voice when nobody listened. That curvy shape she had once fallen in love with.
Playing was something she hadn't done in a long time. Could she still do it? Was there still a connection? Were here nerves dulled? Stroking the dark exterior she slowly opened the lid. It made a thud as it settled to it's position, revealing a row of breathtakingly beautiful ivory keys, settled under black ones. Taming those beasts had once been her favourite past time.
With a shivering anticipation, she sat down on the cushion-less chair, missing even a simple back rest. Lightly resting her delicate fingers on the keys, her mind was rushing through feelings and thoughts long kept hidden. It was like waking to a new morning, and realising you had been living this long without your left hand.
Her mother. She had been the one. Denying her. No, perhaps inadvertently finding a missing piece of her. It was all appearances to her. Her daughter being unable to play a simple instrument was a complete disgrace. But she had made it her own despite her mother's best efforts. Finding a new friend when she had little of those back in the day. I showed you, mother.
Only her love for physical exercise and the hard rigorous training of martial arts compared to her passion for music. The flame was always burning inside her, this day she just couldn't resist it's call anymore and decided to give it new life.
Tenderly she pressed down the first keys. Smooth notes flowed and stirred her heart. It was a greeting. Welcome back, old friend, I missed you. You could always tell what I felt, in a way my own vocal cords never would. Silently making love to the melody the tone shifted, she had found her core. Now it was time to speak.
Piscary! Twang of a low A. Followed by a high discord. It turned into a forte fortissimo beat-out of multiple keys, all warring with each other. There were no words anymore, just feelings. She could speak to herself this way better than using the spoken language. Her subconscious was freed of its shackles.
This was the best therapy. Just remembering those days with that... monster. She could say it now. He had not been her father, not her parent or mentor. All he had wanted was dominance of her will. He had not got it in the end, because of... Skimmer.
The melody shifted into a softer one, there was so much to say and play about that one. She had loved her... Who Skimmer was in the end. Why did she do it? Ivy had said no, she hadn't wanted to drink blood, Ivy was a good girl. Her thoughts were scaring even her but she leaned on the piano and played her heart away.
Skimmer, I'm sorry. I wish things had been different. I wish you had not been so... wait it was me too, or was it? Not really, it was all you. I hope you rot in hell, bitch. All words, not really words, transforming themselves into a song. Her dreams becoming reality, her soul laid bare on the air. Anyone who would be listening now would know her deepest, innermost secrets.
A pause. A breath. A thought in her mind still not materialized into a word.
Rachel.
Her touch became hesitant, her mind unfocused. It was impossible to keep up the complex rhythmical structure and variations of scales. She fumbled, fumbled again, and stopped. It couldn't be played. She was furious. But even if she tried forcing it, notes just didn't flow anymore. Somebody had cut her cord to creativity and she was empty again. Desperate. Unfulfilled.
With a bang the lid came down and the instrument was sealed yet again. Ivy steadied her breathing and admitted defeat. The bitterness of it was all too sweet. She crouched over the piano, leaning to it. She had lost her voice but gained a new understanding.
Only way to gain her voice again was to resolve her life. Hanging on a fragile hope, she was standing in limbo and unable to play. Truly play. Like it should be done. Any other method was merely a pale imitation and not worth even trying.
"Why did you stop, that was amazing. What was that song?" A soft voice came behind her. Steaming cup of coffee, as always, was in Rachel's gentle hand. Her mouth had formed a cute "O" of shocked amazement.
Ivy's heart skipped a beat but she steadied herself fast. "Eh... it was just something I picked up." My soul, for you.
"Well I have never heard that one. It was beautiful."
"Thanks." No, it was ugly, like me.
"Can you play some more, please?" Rachel smiled radiantly, as she hopped on to the couch with an anticipatory, eager glare.
"Maybe some other day." Ivy smiled back warmly. If you let me.
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A short fic, of a girl who loves playing the piano. Why doesn't she play anymore? Perhaps Kim fill write it in the future books.