1.9: Players

Back in the den, Rebecca had returned with the glass of water for Brooklyn, and now she hovered hopefully right next to his elbow. At the piano, Yvette had just finished playing a simple piece from memory, and Marie insisted that it was her turn now. As Yvette slid off the seat, Marie turned to Isabel and said sweetly, "Would you care to accompany me, dear sister? And let Brooklyn hear your singing voice…"

Isabel's feline ears went back again, and she said flatly, "I. Don't. Sing. In. Public. As you are well aware, sister dear."

Rebecca piped up eagerly, "I'll sing, Marie! What are you going to play?"

The look Marie gave Rebecca was not a happy one, but she said aloud as she sat on the piano bench, "In honor of our guest's medieval background, I'll be playing 'Greensleeves'."

Marie began to play, and Brooklyn could tell from the first few bars that while Yvette had been fairly decent on the piano earlier, Marie was far better. She added flourishes to the introduction that Brooklyn had never heard before, but which sounded both appropriate and lovely.

Then Rebecca began to sing, and just as Adam had said back in Manhattan, she had a lovely singing voice. "Alas, my love, you do me wrong, to cast me off discourteously. For I have loved you well and long, delighting in your company." On the chorus, her voice soared like a gargoyle gliding to greet the summer moon, "Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves was my heart of gold, and who but my lady Greensleeves."

But with the next verse, Marie slowed the tempo a trifle, And Rebecca's voice stumbled as she sung the first few words, then realized the change and had to pause until the next line. Then in the chorus, Marie suddenly sped up again, and Rebecca verbally stumbled again as she tried to catch up…

It made what should have been a pleasure to listen to, decidedly unpleasant instead. And Brooklyn's eyes narrowed as he realized that was exactly what Marie had intended. She'd already sent Martha out of the room, had tried to get Isabel to do something her rookery sister couldn't do well, and now she was doing her best to make Rebecca look bad in front of him; trying to eliminate the competition, any way she could.

If she were a member of his clan, he would have pulled her aside and told her in no uncertain terms that behavior like that was dishonorable and intolerable. A gargoyle in search of a mate was free to do what he could to make himself--or herself—look good, but not to make other suitors look bad in the process!

But he admitted to himself with painful honesty, he and his brothers had pulled similar tactics when Angela had first arrived in Manhattan and they'd all been competing for her affections. And Angela had told them all off, loud and clear… but by that time, she had already been accepted as a full clan member, with every right to call them out on their behavior.

And Marie wasn't a member of his clan at all, was she? This clan might have different standards of what was acceptable behavior and what was not when it came to courting. (After all, they counted a lot of humans as members of their clan, and humans had that saying "All's fair in love and war.") And he had only arrived in town last night; now was not the time to commit a potentially serious faux pas that could put his entire clan in a bad light, since they were guests in another clan's territory.

While Brooklyn had been musing on what, if anything, he could do, Rebecca had struggled valiantly for a full three verses before finally going silent and just standing there miserably, nearly in tears, while Marie brought the song to an end with more flourishes. Rebecca said softly as she looked at her toe-talons, "I'm sorry…"

And Brooklyn had an idea. "Don't feel bad, Rebecca; some people just can't find each other's rhythms! Why don't you try singing while Yvette plays? After a few bars, you'll probably find the same rhythm and--"

After finishing the piece, Marie had turned in her sat to gaze smugly at everyone else, but now she stared at Brooklyn with incredulous dismay before interrupting him with a hasty, "I can do it! I'm just--out of practice at playing while accompanied! Let's try again, Rebecca; I'm sure we'll do better this time…"

And they did. Brooklyn leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes to enjoy the music… as well as the whispered compliment that came to him from someone else nearby. He thought it might have been Yvette who said softly and with warm approval, "Very well done."

To Be Continued…