What's left to do, when all the strings just –
break?
Honey, I'm the queen of broken strings
(You never need to play a song to cause hearts to)
.s.
.n.
.a.
.p.
Funny, that, isn't it?
Darling, I n*e*v*e*r lose
looks like we're in for a ride
Dominique never meant it to happen.
(d minor, how do i play that chord, mummy?)
Victoire was the golden girl, and golden girls get everything. Especially golden boys. Princesses and princes, drawn together by the inexorable forces of love.
(except)
When someone stands in the way.
The wicked witch.
(but mummy, in muggle stories, witches get killed)
I know, honey. That's because Muggles don't quite understand what witches are like.
Dominique never wanted it to happen.
Did she?
Or perhaps, from the first moment she met Teddy Lupin's sparkling violet eyes, she knew it was hopeless.
(i'm going to play this one day, mummy)
You do that, darling, and I'll learn how not to play Daddy's heart. Or how to turn back time. You won't be born, but oblivion is the nicest place to be. I think, maybe.
This is my boyfriend, Dom. Teddy.
I know who he is, Victoire.
(it's really nice, can we play it again)
Okay, darling, one more time.
Maybe she's a masochist.
Or maybe she's just smart.
No, Victoire is the smart one. The pretty one. The one dating him, dating Teddy.
(where's daddy, can he listen?)
Daddy had to go away, sweetheart.
I wanted him to.
No, she didn't.
She wanted Victoire's handsomehandsome boyfriend to stay right where he was.
Next to her.
(mummy, who's vic – victoire?)
Damn that old photo album, but you're too sentimental, you've always been too sentimental, maybe that's
w
h
y
I had to do it.
(she's next to daddy)
It's a photo, darling. Now listen.
She always was dastardly pretty, Victoire. So pretty she looked right next to him.
Or is that why?
(d minor, i still can't play it)
Trust me, darling, I wish I hadn't played it either.
Maybe then –
Then –
I could've stopped loving them.
But I loved him more.
- Teddy Lupin, with his hair rumpled as he twirls with the dancers under the icy chandeliers and cries in her arms as the curtain closes on the man with the shabby robes and the woman with the daft smile –
In her arms, not Dom's.
(okay, darling, we'll play it again, stop crying)
Who am I talking to?
Only one solution, really.
She was so light. It was her fault, really.
Or maybe the tower's, that it had no balcony.
Sprawled on the ground –
Your pretty doll's all broken, Teddy, marry me instead.
Sorry - I loved her more than you, in the end, actually.
That's why I killed her.
(i still don't know who vicky is)
Neither do I, darling. Now go to bed, the last movement's done.
And Dom's still the wicked witch at the end of it.
(d minor, how do I play that chord, mummy?)
You won't, you pretty little doll.
You won't anymore.
XxXxXxXxXxXx
Hey guys!
This is probably the darkest and most complex piece I've ever attempted. I hope it didn't come off too freeverse-y, as that isn't what I was aiming for.
Toccata and Fugue is a beautiful and strangely dark piece. I would definitely recommend listening to it.
PM me with any recs, and meanwhile feel free to favourite and review :)
~Darken Every Legend