Well, I guess I'll start this off by saying Happy 201st Birthday Chopin! It's been a whopping two centuries, and you still look only 20 years old. Go figure. Anyway, this is just a little something I wanted to write up since I'm currently flying through Eternal Sonata on hard mode with a few bro's of mine. Nothing special, just something to keep me from doing anything actually productive. Also, for the record, I have no idea when this story is actually suppose to take place.
Bedtime Stories
It had been a long day for Frederic François Chopin. After fighting monster after monster, he finally and successfully was able to get everyone to Baroque unharmed. Well, it wasn't even so much that he got everyone here safely, but he felt that as the eldest member of their little group that it was his responsibility to make sure everyone was well and safe. Especially since half the people he was traveling with were nearly 20 years younger then he.
Kicking his shoes off, Chopin fell ungracefully on to a nice, warm bed. As of right now his group was staying at a humble little inn to rest and recuperate. Staring up at the ceiling with a surprising amount of interest, Chopin decided he'd have to remember this little place after they left, for it really was a nice inn. The rooms weren't tiny, but neither were they big. The beds were soft, and smelled like fresh wildflowers; a smell Chopin was beginning to find quite soothing.
As he lay there, staring at the ceiling, Chopin began to remember just how tired he really was. The past couple of days had blurred into what seemed to be just one long battle, and the very thought of it made him sore. Chopin also remembered just how much sleep he was lacking, seeing as he hadn't actually slept in a real bed for a few days now. Sleeping in a field he was okay with, and the woods weren't that bad either, but they still didn't compare to a bed. With a surprisingly loud yawn, Chopin slipped out of his dress coat and tossed his hat aside, and prepared himself for a nice, long re-
Knock! Knock!
Well, the sleep would have to wait.
Chopin slid out of his bed and slowly walked toward the door at the front of his room. Stifling another yawn, Chopin opened the door to see Beat on the other side. As he looked down on the young boy in front of him, Chopin's once placid, tired look softened.
"Um, sorry to bother you Chopin, but I was wondering if maybe you could help me with something?" Beat never looked Chopin in the eyes while he spoke. Whether it was from anxiety or fear of angering him, Chopin couldn't tell.
"Whatever the problem may be Beat, I'm sure I can help", and with that, Chopin rested a hand on the brunettes tiny shoulder.
"Really? Oh thank you Chopin!" The change from Beats sullen expression to his sudden lively one almost reminded Chopin of when a child receives a present on Christmas. Not only that, but the change itself was so sudden that he was almost beginning to suspect that the eight-year old had been faking his previous expression, but he curtly dismissed the idea. Beat had never been one to fake emotions quite like that.
"So, would it be impolite to say, ask what I'm helping you with exactly?"
"Well," Beat turned so he was facing the older man, "I'll tell you when we get there".
"May I ask where 'there' is?"
"It's in the kids room". With a small meek smile, Beat began tugging on Chopin's sleeve as they continued to pass the other rooms located in the inn. With the inn being nearly packed, the group decided to have all the younger members share a room. This didn't go over well with Salsa, and at the moment Chopin assumed the problem had to do with her. Salsa was, in his opinion, a wonderful child with plenty of energy to spare, but she could also be quite the handful. Sometimes he wondered if maybe Salsa had just a tad too much energy.
As the duo continued to pass doorway after doorway, Chopin began to look less at where he was going, and more on what was around him. Specifically, Beat. Looking at the little boy who was guiding him through what seemed to be endless hallways, Chopin realized that he wasn't in his usually attire. Instead of the yellow and white coat that Beat usually wore, the little brunette was sporting what seemed to be an old, rather ragged, t-shirt that was far too big for him. Beneath that was a pair of equally old shorts. If Chopin had to make a guess, he'd assume they were Beats pajamas, and they were. Letting the idea set in his mind a bit, Chopin decided to write himself a note to remember to buy Beat new pajamas the next time they went out shopping.
"And we're here!", Beat's voice cut Chopin from his thoughts as the pair stood in front of what seemed to be an identical door to every other. The only difference was Chopin could distinctly hear noise coming from behind it. Very loud noise.
With a sheepish smile splayed all over his face, Beat pushed the door open to reveal what Chopin could only describe as an unorchestrated disaster.
What once was a bed was now a pile of blankets and pillows that were strewn about in the oddest of places. The floor was as the bed was, and to top it off, Salsa was sitting atop what seemed to be a tower of even more pillows. Poor March could be seen somewhere underneath it all.
"Beat! You actually brought him? I didn't think he'd actually come!" Salsa proclaimed from her pillow throne.
"Now why would you believe that Salsa?" Chopin asked curiously, walking farther into the room until he was standing before what was left of the bed.
"Well, we asked Jazz, and Falsetto, and even Allegretto and they all said no! Polka and Viola are already asleep so we can't ask them", with a little 'thud' Salsa hopped down from her throne and jumped carelessly on to the bed. Her answer only made poor Chopin more curious, and more confused.
"What did you ask them to make them all say no?"
As Salsa opened her mouth to answer, another voice shot up from below the bed.
"We asked them if they would tell us a bedtime story", said March in her usual quiet demeanor, which Chopin found quiet amusing considering the fact that she was completely covered in every matter of blanket and pillow possible. As they spoke, Chopin took the chance to sit down on the ragged mess of a bed.
"A bedtime story?" Chopin asked Beat quizzically, as if the idea of it just didn't make sense to him. Beat nodded his head before taking a seat on the bed right next to Salsa.
"Yeah! We can't fall asleep without one", the little redhead stated matter-of-factly as she rocked back and forth, causing the bed to rock with her. March shimmed out of the tangle of blankets and pillows and also plopped herself on to the bed. Now with four people sitting on it, the bed was quite crowded.
"Please Chopin", the bluenette asked calmly, her brown eyes staring hopefully at the older man beside her. With a face like hers, Chopin just couldn't say no.
"Well, I mean, I'd love to. The only problem is that I'm not sure I know any bedtime stories that you three would find interesting", Chopin said, running a hand through his messy gray-blue hair as he spoke.
"We don't care what kind of story it is; really", this time it was Beat who piped up, and now with the same expression March was wearing. Looking around the room at all the hopefully eyes that were on him made Chopin realize he couldn't just walk out now. Not that he'd really want to.
"Alright then. I'll tell you all a bedtime story", Chopin smiled and sighed with a hint of defeat at the edge of his lips. "However, before I begin telling this story, I suggest you all grab whatever pillows or blankets you may need. It's late, and I don't want any of you staying up for much longer".
As the three cheered and heaved blankets back on to the bed where they should have to begin with, Chopin found himself growing more and more comfortable, to the point where he too needed a pillow to rest his head on.
"You're the best Chopin!", Salsa yelled as she scrambled to find her place on the bed again.
"Salsa, you only say that because he agreed", Beat replied stoically. Well, as stoic as Beat can be.
"No! I said that because it's true! Chopin's one of the nicest people I know!"
Without a retort, Beat merely shrugged his shoulders and sat himself so that he was practically leaning on Chopin's right shoulder. On his left shoulder rested Salsa, and in his lap sat March, though it was fairly hard to see since each of them had at least three of four blankets all to themselves. Anyone who would have happened to walk by would simply assume it was a pile of downy quilts and continue on their merry way. With everyone settled in and comfy, Chopin found it harder and harder to keep his eyes open, but he promised them a story and so his eyes never closed.
"Hm, Salsa. I have a quick little question, if you don't mind", Chopin asked. It took her a moment, but alas Salsa was able to maneuver her head so that it was resting perfectly on his shoulder.
"Yes Chopin?"
"Might I ask why you decided to strewn the room with pillows to begin with?"
"Well", she paused, as if contemplating her answer and choosing her words wisely, "I was bored". Though not quite the answer he was expecting, Chopin nodded and left it at that.
"Now, what kind of story can I tell to you three tonight…", he murmured quietly as he let whatever ideas or thoughts come to him. It was a grueling task, he realized. Recalling a story that you've read or told before was fairly simply, but trying to recall or make-up a story on the spot could be quite difficult. He pondered and scratched his head with his only free arm, since his other one was around Beat, but before long he had it.
"Everyone ready?", he asked, and was given three unanimous 'yes's' all in a row.
"Now, this story is about a rabbit named…named Apricot. Apricot is a young rabbit, and she lives with her mother in a forest not to far from here. Unlike other rabbit's, Apricot is special. Unlike other rabbit's, Apricot has the gift to fill all who meet her with light and happiness. Especially to those who need it most. Now, there is one problem with Apricot, and it is a terrible problem indeed. Ever since she was born, Apricot has been very, very ill. So ill in fact that she doesn't have that long to live, which worries her mother greatly, but Apricot never gives up.
One day, Apricot was in a flower field also not to far from here, when she met a lowly old raven. She looked at the raven and saw that it was confused, so she brought him home. From then on the two became wonderful friends, and the raven promised to find a cure for her so that she may live for as long as she pleases. However, in order to find this cure, they had to leave the forest on a great and valiant quest. And so they did.
As they journeyed far and wide, Apricot and the raven met another rabbit and even though Apricot had just met this rabbit, she knew they were going to be best friends. Or even greater. As they continued traveling, they wound up meeting a little sparrow with an eye for wonderful scenery".
"Hey, that sounds like me", through a few blankets came Beat's muffled sleepy voice could be heard.
"Yes it does, and they also met a fox who wasn't afraid to get her paws a little wet, and two petite little cats. One was calm, and had fur like the ocean sky. The other one was like a wildfire; unpredictable and fast".
"And those two sound like Salsa and I", March stated before yawning.
"They do, don't they?", Chopin's eyes began to drift and cloud….
"And they also met a lion with the strength to topple the mightiest trees, and a ferret with speed that could rival a hummingbird in flight….and…and…."
And with a loud, jaw-wrenching yawn, Chopin closed his eyes and finally fell asleep.
So, yeah. I don't really know what compelled me to write this, other than I wanted to see Chopin in some kind of cute, father-like position. Well, I hope you enjoyed it!