Silence.
Odd how it makes an impact on you, thought Knight Captain Suki as she sat up in bed. The fire in the hearth had long since died out, and despite the window being closed a chill permeated the air. She stood, and slid her feet into leather slippers that were cool to the touch, reaching for her dressing gown.
A bottle of unfinished elven wine sat on her writing table, a small bowl of fruit offered up an orange and two small red apples. Her stomach growled but she had no interest in any of it.
It must be near dawn. Its always darkest then, she mused standing in the moonlight as it reflected through her narrow window.
She pulled her tousled hair to one side and proceeded to braid its length absently.
Drawing on a cloak, she figured that some nightly wanderings might remind her to be tired and return to sleep.
Suki heard the soft strains of music as she walked the darkened halls, a candle in a brass holder carefully balanced in her hand. She stopped and listened for a moment, wondering who was able to coax such a rich melody from the old piano in the small lounge beside the library.
She gave a small chuckle at the notion that the "noise" would most likely be upsetting the bookish elf who usually haunted the room at the wee hours. Elves apparently didn't sleep much.
Then again, she thought wryly, neither do I these days.
As Suki approached the lounge, the melody changed to a haunting tune she had heard so often as a child. A hypnotic floral fragrance wafted past on the air and she blinked slowly, looking in the doorway.
Torio Claven sat at the piano, her back to the door. A fire burned lightly in the small hearth, and a candle sat on the top of the instrument glowing softly. There were no sheets of music in front of the ambassador, but her elegant hands stroked the keys gently, lovingly, drawing harmonies from them as Suki had never heard before.
I should have guessed it was you, Torio.
Torio's dress was cut low and completely open in the back, her shoulder length auburn hair covering the knot that held it in place at her neck. Shafts of moonlight came through the window and drew highlights on her hair, but what made Suki's breath catch in her throat was the almost glowing, jagged scar that ran diagonally across the ambassador's back from one shoulder to disappear beneath the line of her dress on the opposite hip. As Torio stretched out her left arm to reach the lower octave, Suki caught a glimpse of another horrible silver scar that slashed her forearm from wrist to elbow.
Gods, Torio...that's why you always kept that arm covered.
Without a further thought, Suki padded into the room and placed her candle on the piano beside the other. With her soft soprano voice, she added her words to the sad, lilting aria, standing slightly behind Torio.
As she sang, Suki gently ran the back of her fingers down Torio's soft hair and across the scar on her back. She saw the sudden tension in the ambassador's shoulders and heard it in the music. For a scant moment Suki rested her hand lightly on Torio's shoulder, and for an equally brief second the other woman lay her cheek against it.
Without another word, nor to retrieve her candle, Suki disappeared back into the darkness.
She didn't hear the music stop as she crawled back into her bed.
Alone again at the moonlit piano, Torio closed the cover over the keys, put her head down on her arms and wept.