Firelink Shrine was by no means a noisy place, nor was it ever truly quiet.
The sound of Andre's hammer pounding steel against the anvil could always be heard, the steady rhythm like that of a metronome.
The fire would always crackle, the flames attempting to lick away at the coiled sword, the blade always enduring.
Faint hissing of steel running on steel as Sirris sharpened her blades.
The faint murmurings came from the further down, of the pyromancer and sorcerer, of the one similar to her and her guardian, of the ones plotting in their dark abode, of the one who had been abandoned muttering to herself.
She knew these noises, for they represented the things that she could not see, yet still knew were there.
The fire keeper sat against the stairs, head turned towards the thrones of cinder. Being blind, it mattered little where her head was pointed, only that she knew the sounds around her.
And while sitting there, she heard a noise. It was faint at first, so distant that she couldn't tell quite what it was.
A whistle. It was barely loud enough for her to make out, but it seemed to be approaching closer and closer. The fire keeper turned her head, focusing in on the source of the noise.
It was clearer now, a rising and falling in pitch. The sound echoed throughout the shrine, reaching all who resided there.
Cornyx and Orbeck stopped their discussion on how pyromancy and sorceries intertwined, admiring the sound. The pair nodded in agreement and made for the sound.
Patches and Greirat ceased their haggling of prices, rising from their crouch to lean down and see what the noise was.
Yuria and Yoel paused in their plotting to find a new hollow lord, entrapped in the melody. The pair couldn't help but find themselves peeking around the corner at the gathering.
Karla's tears stopped flowing as she wiped them away and started making her way towards the whistling.
Eygon lifted Irina up, taking the blind miracle worker towards the bonfire. She leaned against her protector, entrapped in the song.
The shrine maiden grinned, raising her head and waiting for the music to come closer.
Andre's hammering stopped. For the first time in who knows how long, the blacksmith left his workshop. Old bones creaking, he lowered himself onto the stairs, joining the other occupants of the shrine.
All were gathered around, scattered around the bonfire to watch the unkindled. He was adorned in the armour of cinder, but the grace he moved with made it seem as though he was not encumbered at all. He seemed to glide as he moved down the steps.
The fire keeper stood entrapped, her head slightly swaying to tune. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard.
Gentle fingers pulled at her hands. The fire keeper allowed herself to be pulled forward, knowing that it could only be the unkindled, only his hands' were so soft.
The others watched as the fire keeper and unkindled danced around the room, the warrior leading his blind partner in a gentle and slow waltz, whistling all the while.
It started with Andre, the old blacksmith picked up on the melody first. His deeper and hoarser voice added another layer to the song. The shrine handmaiden joined him shortly after, a shrill whistle, yet still in time with the others.
It didn't take long for the entire room to be filled with noise, hums and whistles and even the occasional clang of metal on metal. Those who were normally considered enemies joined together to enjoy this moment of peace, a short respite in the turmoil of their lives.
And all the while, the duo danced. Twirling around one another, they allowed the music to guide them. The tune had slowly dwindled down, until it was only them humming along to it.
In that moment, nothing mattered. The feuds of the past meant nothing, the lords of cinder could wait, and the looming uncertainty of the future could be forgotten. All that mattered to them was enjoying this moment.
As the unkindled hummed the last note, he bowed to his partner, and she replied in kind. It was to them, perfect.