Minuet of Sorrow

Squall looked through sheet after sheet of paper about the coming season at La Scala. From the costumes, the costs, the singers, the ballets, the stage sets, the lighting engineers, the sound people, and the chorus, orchestra, and touring companies, he examined each detail with much care. He made sure that the mezzo soprano and tenor to sing the roles of Azucena and Manrico were perfect for the next Il Trovatore. Rodelinda had to have a beautiful voice, as well as a good sense of Handelian singing that allows her to do her da capo (from the start) passages with the fluidity and a knack for spontaneous variations. The next season's Norma had to be perfect as well. The Milanese wouldn't be very happy if you gave them a poor dramatist for the role of the Druid priestess Norma. But where would you find one now that Maria Callas had passed away?

Squall felt extremely stressed. The pressures of the theater, plus a few "slipups" and "dumb decisions" were really boring into him. He tried to return his thoughts to the needs of La Scala. Now, he was thinking about casting a great Verdian soprano for Il Battaglia di Legnano and to hire a beautiful French Import to sing either Thais or Manon. A coquettish Rossinian mezzo needed to have the grace and acting ability to portray Donna Fiorilla in Il Turco in Italia. His tenor had to have the dramatic sense and vocal heft for Otello. He needed an all-star cast for Armida, requiring a soprano who could sing contralto, mezzo, high soprano, and coloratura ranges with effective Rossinian whim, adding to that the pressure of finding five tenor leads who were Rossini specialists. The scores had to be updated as well, as some of the operas they were presenting used ones with plenty of cuts.

For the ballets, he needed to import Moscow dancers who could interpret Musskorgy's melodious music with ease. The directors for his operas had to be top notch as well. Would he have to hire Franco Zeffirelli again? Or should he find younger talent? Squall also had to handle the Wienerstaater Opera house touring company who was coming to present Vincenzo Bellini's Il Pirata at La Scala, and the costs for hiring such a prestigious opera house was going to be quite taxing on La Scala's budget. The board had even suggested that he do four runs of Wagner's Ring Cycle for the next season, but after hours and hours of debate, Squall won and put Richard Strauss' Ariadne auf Naxos and Wagner's Tristan und Isolde instead on the calendar. Great…now he had to find good Wagnerian singers, and the good ones were hard to find in a time and age when Italian bel canto and lesser-known French operas were on the rise in terms of popularity. How many good Tristans were there nowadays anyways? What about Isoldes? He had to face the fact that singers were becoming more light-voiced with the passing of the decades. Puccini, Verdi, and Wagner were becoming more and more difficult to cast.

Finding his intense workload to be exhausting, he decided to take a break and sip some coffee with a shot of Amaretto. His thoughts though, lay elsewhere.

After the incident with Rinoa this morning, he decided to give his father one of those rare calls. Needing much advice and desperately wanting her back, he could think of no one better to turn to than someone who seemed to know something about relationships, even if theirs suffered from a distance that seemed to put a million barriers between Squall and Laguna.

When Laguna answered the phone and found out it was Squall, he sounded more than happy to discover that his son was actually the person on the other end of the line. "Son! So glad you called! So what's on your mind?"

Squall felt like he just drank a cup of boiling oil. "I think I did something that I shouldn't have done."

"Continue son…I still have a violin to work on," Laguna insisted when Squall left off the conversation with a long pause.

"I…sort of said something to Rinoa that I shouldn't have done," he finally confessed.

"Ok? So what did you tell her?" As much as he anticipated this with Squall, whom he knew didn't know a rat's ass about relationships, he thought it best to be the patient and consoling listener.

There was another awkward pause before Squall said, "I sort of…asked her to marry me earlier this morning…I know I know! You don't have to tell me! It was…too fast…stupid too."

Laguna sighed from the other end of the phone. Even if he had a violin to work on, nothing made him happier than to hear Squall talking to him about his personal life. Laguna always felt like Squall was shutting him out one way or another whenever it came to things like these. Now that he was ready to talk, Laguna was ready to listen. "I suppose you realize that you shouldn't have done that."

"Duh."

Laguna laughed a bit and changed his tone from happy-go-lucky to serious. "So what are you going to do about this Squall?"

"…apologize? I don't know! You told me that you were a playboy when you were younger so give me some good advice!" Squall said irritably from his office.

Laguna sounded like he was enjoying this. "But…" he said with emphasis on the word. "I never proposed to a girl in the first week that I met her. That's the number one no-no in any relationship. Move it slowly and you get something nice and sweet. Move it too fast and both of you crash and burn."

Squall sighed loudly, taking another sip of coffee. "So what should I do?"

"I don't know…you tell me."

"Dammit…I shouldn't have called you. I knew you were going to do this."

Laguna faked a "hurt" voice from his side of the phone. "I? Your loving father would do this? Why Squall, I wouldn't do anything to upset you for what your happiness is worth. So please don't accuse me of being a…what did you call me again?"

"I didn't call you anything," Squall dryly reminded him.

"Oh…right. Oh well, let's brainstorm. Say, why don't you take her to Biffa Scala and offer her chocolates and flowers? That would really…" he began before Squall cut him off.

"No dad! That isn't going to work! I just proposed to a girl whom I thought was the perfect one or as people say "THE ONE", was refused, and I'm not going to try to make her think that I'm forcing her into this relationship again! I moved it too fast, and now I'll ruin what is left of a possible relationship if I try anything stupid again!"

Laguna fell silent and couldn't think of how to put things together. Squall was always different from him. He was a lady's man. Squall was an antisocial genius. Squall also did the biggest no-no in the history of dating, and right now, Laguna was unsure of what to do, or more importantly, what to tell him. "Sorry son. But I really wouldn't know what would be best for the both of you. I believe Rinoa is a very nice girl, but if you know that she isn't ready for a relationship, just put some distance between yourselves for a while. Afterwards, you can approach her again and then get to know here better. After that, I could say that you can probably pop the question, although by then it wouldn't be as big a surprise."

Laguna's advice was greeted by silence. "So what are you going to do about this son?"

Squall sighed into the phone while looking into a sheet of paper containing the possible cast for Il Trovatore. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Renee Fleming on the cast list for Leonora. "Dad what do you think of Renee Fleming as Leonora?"

Laguna was surprised by the sudden change of topic. Still, he answered, "Uh…I think that would be a not so good idea, considering that Renee's voice lacks the Italianate ping although I'm sure she can still pull off the role but don't change topics."

Squall laughed, his abrupt change of mood quite startling. "Ok ok…I will do that, but I'm not sure how to talk to her now."

Laguna paused for a while, not noticing that he had rubbed a huge amount of rosin on the horsehairs he was going to place on one of his bows. "Hmmm…I'd suggest that you take her out for lunch and talk. Don't talk about love or something like that. Just talk about what you've been doing…the weather…music…composers…complex pieces, Italian houses, you know, the kind of stuff you would talk about when you are friends."

"Yeah…maybe I'll do that." Squall looked at his watch and discovered that it was three in the afternoon. "Oh crap."

Laguna dropped the rosin and immediately directed his attention to Squall. "Squall! What is it? What seems to be the problem?"

Squall hurriedly arranged his paperwork on his desk, grabbing the phone with him as he put the documents in their respective file slots in his drawer. "It's well past lunch time and I forgot to take Rinoa out. She must be hungry."

"Oooh…more minus points for you…" Laguna teased while he picked up his rosin.

"Yeah shut up and go look at the frickin' bow you're working on. I think you've put too much rosin. I can hear the squeaks," Squall told Laguna with a smile hinted on his lips.

"Oh crap!" Laguna boomed. After what seemed like an hour (ok, maybe 20 seconds) of screaming and thrashing about, Laguna returned to the phone. "Hey son, where is she?"

"…I think she might be in the archives."

"Well go then and go after her. You wouldn't want to make a woman hungry."

Squall cleaned up the "mess" on his desk and locked his drawers. "Right dad. Say, what do you think of Ben Heppner as Manrico and Dolora Zajick as Azucena?"

"…Perfect."

"Alright, thanks." Squall put the phone down and just as he was about to grab his coat, he heard a knock on the door. "Come in," Squall said without looking to see who it was.

When he turned around he saw Rinoa come in, looking much better than she did this morning. "Oh…Rinoa, I was just about to go and see if you were up for lunch. Are you hungry?"

Rinoa sat timidly on the couch. "Um…I'm sorry Squall but I already had lunch."

Squall fixed the collar of his jacket. "Oh? Ok. I hope you don't mind me asking but where did you go?"

Rinoa sighed and smiled dreamily. "It was a friend from home who took me out to this little Roman bistro and we had some lunch. I'm a bit stuffed so I wouldn't be able to eat anymore. But if you want to eat you can go without me."

Squall brushed off the wisps of hair that semi-covered his eyes and asked, "A friend? Did one of them follow us to Milan?"

"No…this is a friend of mine who gave me a surprise visit. You should meet him sometime. He's also a great violinist. Um…he's called Nick and he's been my friend since I could remember. I'm really sorry Squall if I didn't tell you I was going out for lunch but I was a bit hungry."

Squall scratched the back of his neck, fidgeting slightly. "Ah, it's ok. I should have asked you to lunch earlier anyways."

He sat on the couch across hers and picked up a magazine, trying to find the most convenient way to avoid staring at her. "Ah…I feel I should at least take you out to have some gelato or some dessert. I feel a bit guilty for leaving you lunch-less. I mean, unless you're done with your research in the archives, I don't think I would like to leave you all alone in my office."

She looked down at her feet and began shuffling them. "Well…um…that was why I came here. I wanted to ask you if it was alright if I could go with Nick today for some sightseeing in Milan. I mean, it's been 2 years since I last saw him and I really want to spend the day with him."

"Yeah, of course you can go. I mean, I'm not your father so you don't have to ask me what to do or where you should go so…go ahead." Squall was disappointed. Mending the broken pieces wasn't going to be a very easy task. 'Who is this Nick guy anyways?' "But how are you going to get home?"

Rinoa smiled sheepishly and answered, "Um…will it be alright with you if Nick drove me back to your place?"

Squall paused for a moment whether he wanted to trust Nick or not, and answered, "Sure, sure it's okay. But does he know how to get around the area? I wouldn't want the both of you to get lost."

"Well he did drive from Cremona to Milan so that wouldn't be much of a problem." Rinoa got up and smiled at Squall. "Come, I'll introduce you to him!"

"Ok, I'll get my coat." Squall followed Rinoa to Teatro alla Scala's entrance and saw a dark-haired man standing in the ticket booth. Rinoa approached the man and smiled at them both.

"Squall, this is my friend Nick. Nick, this is Squall, the director of the theater." Squall and Nick shook hands.

"Pleased to meet you sir. It must be a really exciting job, doing what you're doing," Nick told him enthusiastically.

"Pleased to meet you too. Yeah well…it can get a bit stressful sometimes, but it is fun directing and choosing the operas for…uh, the seasons to come." Squall immediately thought, 'I hate him. He's being such a goody goody. And he looks like one too.'

Nick laughed and continued, "I could imagine. But at least being a concert violinist isn't as stressful. Although I wish I had the talent to be the world's greatest opera house's director."

'Yeah…don't rub it in dude.' Squall gave him a forced smile. "So you are a concert violinist just like Rinoa. Amazing…" Squall was beginning to dislike him. 'So what are you trying to prove? That birds of the same feather flock together and make the same feather duster?'

"It's a challenging career. I wish I could be as good as Rinoa but…I still have a lot to learn. I used to help her when she was younger…but now…"

Rinoa slapped Nick on the shoulder, laughed, and said, "Oh come on Nick. Stop wooing me already! I know you can play very well so stop telling me that you're no good!"

Nick laughed and wrapped an arm playfully around her. "Aw…you're too nice."

'I really hate that arm…although I wish it were mine,' Squall thought maliciously before interrupting them. "So Rinoa told me that you were going to go sight-seeing in Milan. She also told me that you were taking her home. If you need directions to my place, I'll give them to you and I have to go because I'm starving."

Squall gave him his home address and left the two violinists to do their sight-seeing. Somehow, he wasn't very pleased to see Nick. Competition was something Squall never liked, as he always was the best, and now that someone was actually "competing" with him for a girl he really liked, he was frustrated…furious even. He looked back and saw them hold hands. 'That's it. I've had enough.'

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Sophia was in the kitchen cutting up carrots, celery, and onions for her Osso Bucco stew. A pot of tomato sauce was simmering at the stove, filling the kitchen with the fragrance of an Italian countryside. After a trip to the fridge, she brought out a couple of veal shanks and lay them on the counter. Separating the delicate cut of meat carefully, she began to season the meat when she suddenly heard the most evocative solo violin piece playing from the cavernous recesses of the large mansion.

It was the Devil's Trill Sonata, a baroque piece with the most brilliant notes and colors and cadenzas written for the elegant instrument. Captivating her senses and sending her off to a realm where only dreams existed, Sophia began to involuntarily imagine herself as a younger woman in a sea of naked young men. She seemed to be hailed as a goddess when the men expressed their adoration for her. A young brunette with the most beautiful blue eyes began undressing her, and as she looked down, she saw that it was no longer the chubby body that she had to drag around day after day in the kitchen. No, it was a slim, toned body that she could only wish of in her dreams. Another man got up behind her, this time one with black hair and piercing green eyes. He began nipping at her neck, his young body sending of a tingling sensation throughout her system. A blonde this time knelt down and began kissing her legs. She was nearly undressed now, clad only in her undergarments when she suddenly saw the beautiful men adoring her metamorphose into creatures that seemed out of this world. Their smooth, perfect skin began growing tuff after tuff of thick, black hair. Fangs appeared where their canines used to be, and their beautiful eyes changed from their former shade to one of blood-red.

Sophia screamed when the men turned into demons. Trying to shake them off, she ran across the sea of creatures when she suddenly met a dead end. The demons began to approach her, and one of them had slashed at her stomach when she suddenly heard a familiar voice.

"Sophia? Sophia! What is going on?" Sophia opened her eyes to see the very concerned face of Laguna looking at her. She immediately backed away, fearing that he might transform into one of those creatures that had attacked her in her strange dream.

"Sir…please don't kill me…"

Laguna knelt down to comfort his maid. "It's ok Sophia. I'm not here to hurt you. I heard you screaming earlier so I came down to see if everything was alright."

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Quistis and Seifer were taking a stroll down the woods of the Leonhart estate. Admiring one of the trees, Quistis paused to take one of the brilliant red leaves and examined the wonderful specimen carefully.

"Autumn is so beautiful…" she sighed. She continued down the path with Seifer trailing closely behind her. "Seifer, if this is all over, what do you plan to do?"

Seifer pushed away a branch that was in the way of his tall form and paused to think. "I don't know yet. If this is going to be over soon, and I hope it is because I'm beginning to miss the steaks in New York, I might go and…erm…never mind."

Quistis hated that word. Putting the leaf in her pocket and approaching Seifer, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Oh come on Seifer…you don't have to keep these secrets from me. What are you planning?"

Seifer kissed her hand and put it down on her sides. "Like I said…never mind. It's nothing important anyways so stop thinking about it babe."

Quistis pouted and crossed her arms together, frowning even more when Seifer ignored her look and began to walk again. "Seifer…I…"

She suddenly paused when she heard a violin playing from the mansion. 'Gosh…I didn't know that violins could project that far.' Strangely attracted to the piece, she began walking in a trance-like state towards the sound.

It was the caprice no. 5 of Paganini, an extremely difficult piece that when played could only be described as…diabolical.

As Quistis walked towards the source of the violin, she saw the leaves begin changing color around her. The yellows turned to red and the reds slowly began wilting to a shade of dead brown. Everything around her looked dead. Where there was once grass was an empty patch of ground. She looked up. The sky looked desolately dark. She looked down again and strange enough, the ground was covered in a thick blanket of snow. "That's strange," she murmured to herself. "How…how did the seasons change so quickly?"

In the distance, she saw a beautiful white wolf prowling about. It had seen her, and although she had never encountered a wolf before, she knew that the best thing to do was to not startle the creature or run unless it was chasing after you.

Staying put and finding it even stranger that she didn't feel any of the cold, she was surprised when the wolf slowly approached her, showing no sign of aggression. When the animal was just three meters in front of her, it sat down and whimpered at her like a house dog.

Feeling safer this time, she held out her hand cautiously to its nose, again being careful not to startle the animal. Inspecting her scent, the wolf began sniffing her hand and licked it carefully. Pleased, the animal whimpered and began to lick Quistis' hand. She placed her other hand beneath the wolf's jaw and began tickling its neck. It really was a sweet animal. So beautiful too…

Suddenly, the wolf pounced on her. Quistis screamed loud when she saw the animal open its mouth in front of her. Just as she thought her time had come, she found herself laughing again when the wolf tickled her neck with his tongue. "Okay! Okay buddy!" She got up and patted the wolf on the head. "So what do you want to play?"

The wolf looked at a stick and looked back at Quistis. She immediately understood what he wanted and picked up the dead twig hurling it as far as she could. Moments later, the animal came padding back towards her, stick in mouth, and tail wagging happily. She grabbed the dead wood and threw it a second time. Again, the animal returned, seemingly happy for her playing with it. This time, she used all her strength to hurl it across the field. Just as the wolf was running after it, she saw it fall backwards, a pool of blood forming on its head and its brains spilled on the grounds. It was only then that she realized that someone had fired a gun. She screamed, finding her the creature massacred like that before her very eyes.

She looked around, searching for the attacker. When she found a man coming from the distant woods with a large gun in his hands, she froze on the spot. "Who…who are you?" He was covered from head to foot in grayish fur. His face was covered by a mask and a couple of strange-looking goggles.

The man made no response as he continued walking, this time approaching her instead of the wolf's corpse. Quistis found that she couldn't move, and when her senses finally got the better of her, she began to race in the opposite direction when the man grabbed her arm.

"Don't move." She was forced to turn around made her face him. "Running away from me won't do you any good."

She immediately recognized the voice. "Seifer?" Her eyes were white with fear. While she felt relieved that it was Seifer behind the mask, she still was unsure of what he could do to her…especially with the vicious-looking guns behind his back.

The hunter slowly peeled off his mask, revealing Seifer's Nordic-looking face. She could see that smartass gleam in his green eyes when he gave her his usual smirk. Her anger though, quickly subsided when he swooped down on her for a kiss.

When she opened her eyes, she was relieved to see him more clearly, but she immediately noticed the change of environment around her. No longer was she in the snowy wasteland. This was a torture chamber she was in. Various instruments of torture lined the blood-stained walls. She looked again at Seifer. He was now grinning at her, but it wasn't his usual boyish grin which made her heart flutter. Looking down, she found that her feet were linked to the floor with iron chains.

"Seifer…please don't hurt me…" Tears had begun to stream down her face.

He didn't turn around. Seifer walked across the other side of the room and found something that looked like a golf club case. Setting it down beside her, he kissed her again. Opening the bag, Seifer lifted the tools inside to reveal extremely sharp katanas.

And then it happened…

Seifer lifted the blade parallel to his chest and pierced through both of Quistis's breasts. She screamed when the sharp metal passed through her. She saw him grab another knife from the bag, and this time holding it vertically, he brought it down on her shoulder.

"SEIFER!"

"Quistis!"

Grinning manically at her, he brought out another one of his weapons and plunged it through her stomach, wrenching it around to damage her internal organs. The world around her had begun to turn black.

"Quistis…"

Just when he was about to stab her in the heart, she suddenly blacked out and woke up to someone calling her name. She was back in the Leonhart estate. When she found Seifer staring at her and shaking her, she screamed loud enough to cause a flock of birds to fly away from the trees, and collapsed.

"Quistis!"

Seifer touched her wrist with two of his fingers and was relieved to find out that she was breathing. However, she was unconscious, and this prompted Seifer to carry her back to the mansion.

'This is really strange…' he thought as he made his way back with Quistis in his arms.

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Next chapter is coming up soon, but I hope you take the time to read and review this chapter. The next one: La Tarantella Macabre