No Words Could Say

by Muse of Scrolls

This is the first in a series of songrelated fanfictions. When Michelle Kensington, an accomplished pianist, has a rather unfortunate wilderness encounter, saving her falls to the task of one man. And he's truthfully not of this planet...

(Michelle's Version)

As I stood on the edge of the forest a few miles from my house, I noticed the change in the woods. The apple trees were in full bloom as their sweet scent reached my nostrils. The leaves were bright green on so many of the trees, but on a few, the leaves were changing into a slight golden color. Autumn would soon be here, and there would be no remnants of summer.

Walking slowly, I heard birds singing in the trees, ever so sweetly, and I turned my face up to smile at them for gracing me with their song. It was always an honor to hear an original piece performed by its composer, even if it was a bird. Carrying my sketchbook under my arm, I pulled out a pencil and stared at one of the birds for awhile before scratching the lead point against the white paper.

Looking up again, I saw that the bird had flown off, but its memory still remained in my mind for my sketch was identical. There were a few rough edges that needed smoothing, but I could do that later on at home. Right now, I just wanted to be out of the house and enjoy this wonderful day.

My footsteps were muffled by the sound of my jeans whiffing as I walked. I brushed off some fallen leaves that landed on my dark green shirt. Sighing, I felt the breeze tickle my face, and I giggled softly.

Coming to the edge of the forest, I saw the valley that lay before me. It was a magnificent display of green and blue with white clouds lulling about in the sky. I had never seen the valley look so good or sound as beautiful as I heard the river rushing through the center.

Opening the bag at my hip, I brought out a set of pipes that my cousin sent me from Peru. The higher pipes were light and airy while the middle pipes sounded rich, and the low, long pipes had more of a mysterious sound to them. Putting the pipes to my lips, I played different rhythms that I heard from my CDs. I even tried to mimic the song of the birds, but it didn't come out quite like theirs. It was more of a reedy sound, which was normal since it was made of reeds.

Then, hearing something else, I stopped playing and took the pipes away from my mouth. My eyes scanned the sky as I frowned in confusion. Sighing, I replaced the instrument back into my bag. Glancing around, I tried to find whatever it was that made the noise. It was an odd kind of swooshing like a gust of wind.

Then, another noise, more frightening than the first, came to my ears. It was a low growl, and I slowly turned to face with a mountain lion. He snarled at me and my eyes widened as I tried to back away slowly. Thinking to myself, I said, 'Nice lion, good lion, don't attack me, please?' His golden eyes widened as he crouched low to the ground and prepared to strike.

Feeling my knife in my jeans pocket, I slowly pulled it out and opened the largest blade. Then, taking careful aim just as my grandfather taught me, I let the blade fly through the air; it struck its target square in the right foreleg of the lion. He let out a yelp of pain as he recoiled from the blade.

Taking advantage of this, I ran with all my strength, my long hair streaming behind. Looking back, I saw him give chase, and I cursed inside my mind as I tried to evade him in the woods. Not looking where I was going, I tripped over an enormous log and did a front flip before landing against my left shoulder on the ground. Gritting my teeth in pain, I watched in horror as the lion charged straight for me. Holding my hands in front of my face, I heard that weird swooshing noise again before something landed on the ground with a hard thud.

Finally getting the courage to look up, my eyes widened at the sight that lay before me. The lion lay on the ground motionless, and standing in front of me was a tall man. Tilting my head to see my savior, I couldn't get a good look because of the shadows of the trees. Placing my hands underneath my body, I tried to get up, but pain surged through my left arm and shoulder.

The tall man turned and gave me a hard look as he said in a rather gruff voice,

"Let me see your arm."

Backing away a little, I leaned back onto my knees as he bent down to inspect my shoulder. Moving it slightly, air hissed from my mouth as I gasped from the pain shooting through my arm once more. Rising to his full height again, the man placed his hands about my waist and helped me to my feet.

"It looks like your shoulder may be broken," he told me in his rough tone.

'As if I couldn't feel that,' I thought to myself rather annoyed.

Looking at me again, he extended his hand holding something out to me. It was my bag.

"You dropped this when you ran off," he said as I took it in my right hand and slung it over my right shoulder.

Nodding to him, he gave me a look of surprise. Shaking his head, he motioned for me to follow him to the open area outside the forest. Apparently, I hadn't run that far to get away from the lion. Walking behind him, it seemed to take me two steps to keep up with his long, fluid stride. He wore some sort of white cape that wafted behind him, and so I merely followed that outside the woods.

Once we reached the clearing beyond the forest, I let out a harsh breath as we finally stopped. Turning to face me once again, I got a really good look at him. He was really tall, about a head taller than me. His skin was a bright green, but rough patches of pink and red graced his arms. The uniform he wore was deep purple and a white turban sat upon his long, pointed ears.

Looking at me, he practically ordered, "Wait here."

Watching him, he flew straight into the air and my eyes widened as I thought, 'Who is this guy? He's kinda cool.'

It didn't take him long to return with a few pieces of wood in his arms. Breaking some of them with his hands, he fitted two or three pieces around my upper arm. Then, setting them down, he tore a piece off his cape and tied the pieces together to my arm. I couldn't believe it. He was making a splint for my arm.

Leaning back, he seemed to be inspecting his work, and then he looked at me as if waiting for a response. I merely nodded to him because what more could I do? As a mute woman, my forms of communication are rather limited. He frowned at this before asking,

"You don't talk very much, do you?"

Widening my eyes in realization, I smiled at him as I searched in my bag for the small device my cousin bought for me when I first came to live with her. Frowning, I bent my head down to look inside the bag myself before remembering I left it at home. Normally, I didn't need it because no one was ever outside where I was at these times.

Tilting my head to the side in thought, an idea came to me as I turned back to face him. He was still waiting for my response. Placing my hand on my throat and shaking my head 'no', I hoped this would be explanation enough for him. This seemed to confuse him even more as he frowned in what seemed to be annoyance. Opening my mouth as if to speak, I couldn't produce a sound no matter how hard I tried. Then, pointing to my throat again and shaking my head 'no', he finally understood.

"You can't speak?" he asked bluntly.

'Give the man a Nobel Prize for comprehension of a mute woman,' I thought annoyed by him.

To my surprise, he smirked slightly as though he heard my thoughts, but I knew that was impossible. Then, I remembered my sketchpad and brought it into my right hand before sitting down. Bringing out a pencil, I scribbled a question about asking his name onto the paper before holding it out to him.

As he took it from me, he read it and handed the pad back to me before saying, briefly, "Piccolo."

I scribbled my name and a 'thank you' on the pad and he replied, "You're welcome, Michelle."

Nodding to him, I took the pad once more from him and placed it back into my bag with my pencil. I sat still while Piccolo sat down beside me and crossed his legs, sighing heavily. He seemed to enjoy the quietness surrounding him, but I was bored. Reaching into my bag, I brought out my pipes once more and brought them to my lips. Playing a few of the lower, haunting notes, I saw his eyes dart towards me.

(Piccolo's Version)

It had been a hard day of training as I sat and meditated on a cliff overlooking the valley before me. The wind blew past me and took my cape to the sky as I sighed in contentment. Feeling a difference in the energy balance, I scanned the area below me. There it was! A human was walking through the forest close by, and I rose from my position to fly lower.

Before I reached the human, some strange, new sound reached my sensitive ears. It was an interesting sound almost with a wooden hollowness to it. I had never heard anything like it, and it brought a thought of curiosity to my mind.

Flying towards it, the sound faded just as soon as it appeared. Frowning at this, I soon discovered that the sound had practically led me to the wandering human. It was a girl, rather tall for any that I'd seen before, but still a girl. Rolling my eyes, I knew that she would be trouble. Human women usually were and this one would be no different if she saw me.

Turning and preparing to fly into the sky, I suddenly stopped as I heard a familiar growl behind me where the girl stood. Before I could turn, I heard the lion yelp and saw the girl take off into the woods. 'Bad idea,' I thought to myself as I followed her above the trees.

Inevitably, she tripped and the lion was nearly upon her. Sighing, I knew that I'd gotten too involved to abandon her now. As the lion leapt to strike her, I jumped through the forest canopy and delivered a sharp roundhouse kick across his head. My kick sent him spiraling through the air and crashing into a tree before landing on the ground, motionless.

Looking from the lion to the girl, I saw her looking at me in surprise and what appeared to be amazement. I was surprised that she didn't scream, but I suppose it was because of the tree shadows that she couldn't see me very well. Well, she tried to get up and fell as a hiss of pain came from her mouth.

After examining her left shoulder and arm, I concluded that it was probably broken. Informing her of this, I told her to follow me out into the open where I could properly tend to the swollen shoulder. We reached the outside within a few minutes and I turned to look at her before ordering, "Wait here."

Then, I flew back into the woods to gather some thick bark from the trees. Snapping off some pieces after I'd returned, I splinted the shoulder and part of the upper arm. She could still move her lower arm and fingers without too much pain and that was all she really needed.

Finally, I stood back and got a good look at her. She was just a head under me and had a mane of dark golden, almost brown, hair. Her wide eyes were a light green with a circle of brown in the center. She didn't have a bad muscular build and her legs looked strong enough to be a fighter's deadly weapon. What was really bothering me was that she wouldn't say a word. Not that I minded the silence, but it was odd for a human, especially a girl, to not talk.

"You don't talk very much, do you?" I asked her. To my surprise, she began fumbling around in the bag that I retrieved for her when she dropped it in her dash to the forest. She frowned as she apparently didn't find what she was looking for. Then, her eyes seemed to brighten a little as she put her hand on her throat and shook her head 'no'.

I gave her a confused stare, thinking, 'This girl must be crazy.' She appeared to try and think of something else. Then, she did something really odd. She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but no sound was uttered try as she might. Pointing to her throat and shaking her head again, I finally understood.

"You can't speak," I plainly said.

Then, I heard her say something in her mind about me winning some prize as some sort of smartass. I smirked at her and she looked at me, surprised before getting a notepad from her bag (which she should have done in the first place) and sitting down on the ground. After scribbling something on it, she handed the pad to me and I read, 'What's your name?' I handed it back to her, saying, "Piccolo."

Writing something else on the pad, she handed it to me once again and I read, 'My name's Michelle. Thank you for helping me.' So she did have some way to communicate. I smiled slightly at this and said, "You're welcome, Michelle."

Then, I sat down on the ground near her as I enjoyed the silence even though I was with someone else. Normally, when I was training Gohan, the kid would never shut up. This girl was very different and I liked it. However, I spoke too soon when she pulled out some sort of device that looked like reeds of different lengths tied together.

Putting it to her lips, she blew on the longer pipes, which emitted a low, haunting sound. Glancing over at her, it confirmed my suspicions that she was the one making the noise earlier. I expected the noise to become annoying, but instead it sounded rather pleasant, like the forest itself.

Michelle glanced over at me and apparently took notice of how I seemed to listen. When she reached a certain point that seemed a little high for my ears to bear, I cringed and immediately she blew lower notes once more. Sighing, I just watched her as she played on this weird instrument. She seemed content to play the thing, so I let her.

After awhile she stopped and put the instrument away. 'Good,' I thought. 'It's nice, but it was beginning to get on my nerves.' Then, she did something very strange. Her fingers began flexing as she wriggled them in different positions and ways. It was almost as if she was testing her fingers, but on what, I hadn't the slightest idea. However, it was better than her talking or playing that pipe instrument right now.

(Michelle)

Soon, I tired of playing my pipes for two reasons. One, I was getting tired of moving it with just one hand and two, because I saw that Piccolo was getting annoyed with it. Putting the pipes away, a thought entered my mind. 'What if my arm hurts too much to play piano?' I asked myself as I looked at it again.

Then, I began performing my fingering exercises for my piano in the air. I was trying to learn if my hand would work properly even with this splint on my arm. Sighing with a smile, I discovered that I could move my fingers without trouble or pain. Every so often I would glance over at Piccolo where he sat near me, watching.

Soon, the afternoon sun warmed me so much, that my eyelids were drooping. Nodding my head, I jerked it back up when I nearly fell asleep. I knew it probably wasn't a good idea to go to sleep on a bad arm, which was why I knew I couldn't sleep. But, I was so tired from practicing on piano earlier that morning and from the lion incident that I couldn't help wanting to sleep.

Apparently, Piccolo noticed this and rolling his eyes, he moved closer to me, and I placed my head on his leg. Letting out a small sigh, I fell into slumber against his thigh.

(Piccolo)

As I saw the girl nodding off, I knew that it wouldn't be too great for her if she fell asleep on her injured arm. Rolling my eyes, I moved my body closer to her, and she looked up at me before laying her head down and falling asleep.

I found myself staring down at her as she slept…especially her hair. It was so long, longer than I'd ever seen on other women. The coloring was odd, too. I almost believed it to be a bronze color, but when the sun caught it, many strands shone golden. Her lips were an unnaturally dark shade of pink, like she was wearing lipstick, but she wasn't. She was, I suppose, what most humans would call pretty or cute.

Looking at her now, she seemed totally at peace. I wondered what went through her head whenever someone spoke to her. It was odd because she seemed so normal except for the fact that she was…what was the term? Mute. That was the right word. In all the years I'd been alive, I had never met someone who was deaf or mute. She didn't seem at all discouraged by her impediment, though. The music she played on that weird pipe instrument was proof enough of that.

For some strange reason, I believed her to be a fighter. She could hear just fine, but talking was out of the question. Frowning, I guessed that most people who didn't get a response from her believed that she was deaf. 'It must be hard for you not being able to speak,' I thought to her. Smiling slightly, I thought, 'But, maybe that's for the best. You can't say evil, hateful things. You can't talk yourself into trouble. All you can do is stare in reply.'

I didn't realize it, but I had placed a hand on the top of her head. Her hair was soft beneath my palm as I brushed it slightly with my fingers. A scent came into the air as I did this, and I smelled water and fruit. The scent came from her long hair; I realized this at the same time I saw that I was brushing her hair. Removing my hand, I crossed my arms and meditated for awhile before opening my eyes again to look at her.

It was around dusk when she finally stirred from her slumber. 'Finally,' I thought to myself. My leg was beginning to fall asleep. She lifted her head from my leg and stretched her right arm. Before she could do the same with the other and probably severely damage it, I put a hand on her shoulder, and she seemed to remember her injury.

As I rose to my feet, Michelle used her good arm to help herself stand up beside me. Looking at the sky, her eyes widened, and she looked as though she was upset. Taking the paper out again, she scribbled some words on a sheet before handing it to me. 'I need to get home soon or my cousin will worry,' it said.

Glancing at her, I sighed, handing the pad back, saying,

"If you promise not to panic, I'll take you home." She turned and faced me with those strange-colored, green eyes of hers and she bowed her head in thanks.

Wrapping my left arm around her waist, I told her, "Hang on."

Her right arm was wrapped around my neck, and as we flew into the sky, it tightened a little as she cringed from being so high off the ground. Then, she opened her eyes and looked at the ground below us, and her eyes widened in awe. Her face was only about a few inches from mine, and as she turned to face me, she blushed a little as I smiled slightly at her. Michelle scanned the area for her home before pointing with her head to a house all alone on the crest of a hill between two meadows.

Gazing at the house, I was surprised by its size. It was a two-story, old-fashioned house with a sort of antique appearance. It seemed strange that it should house just two people, but I didn't really know how many people lived there. As far as I knew then, it was just Michelle and her cousin.

Landing on the ground near the trees, I set Michelle down before saying,

"I'd take it easy on that shoulder for awhile or else it might get worse."

Then, as I turned to leave, Michelle placed her good hand on my arm and looked at me with a gentle smile on her face. She placed her arm around me and hugged me. I glanced around hoping no one was home before I placed a hand on her good shoulder. The next thing she did caught me completely off-guard. Raising her eyes to mine, she leaned up and kissed me lightly on the cheek.

Giving her a half-smile, I took off into the fading sunlight. She stood there watching me leave, and I couldn't help but put a hand on the cheek her lips touched. Her mouth was soft and the kiss was light as a feather, but remembering her eyes, it seemed there was almost a sense of loneliness. Sighing, I thought, 'At times, she must hate being alone.' Stopping and just hovering in the sky, I could still see the roof of her house.

(Michelle)

After I woke up, I stretched my arms as I usually did, but when I tried to stretch my bad arm, Piccolo placed a hand on my shoulder reminding me of my injury. Sighing in relief, I was glad that he was there with me. I didn't really feel like being alone when I felt helpless. Yes, helpless. My hands and arms are how I communicate so without them, I feel I'm at a loss.

It was about that time when I noticed how low the sun was in the sky, and my eyes widened in panic as I remembered Sandra's call. Usually, if I wasn't there the first few times she called from South America, she would worry or freak out. After all, she was slightly older than me. Only four years older and she thinks she has to be my mother. Well, I would tell her that a twenty-year-old can take care of herself fine without someone worrying over them.

Piccolo seemed to notice my look of panic, and I scratched words onto the pad telling him what was wrong. He read it and nodded his head before saying,

"If you promise not to panic, I'll take you home."

I nodded my head in thanks to him as he wrapped his left arm gently, yet securely about my waist. Even though I knew what he intended to do, I still cringed when our feet left the earth behind us, and we were flying high over the forest. As I finally got used to the feeling, I looked down and saw everything that was green or blue beneath our feet. It was simply breathtaking. I was so engrossed in the awe of it all that I nearly forgot that he was taking me home. Then, I turned and found my face so close to his that I blushed in slight embarrassment.

Soon, I spotted my house on the hill below us, and since I didn't want to release Piccolo's strong neck, I pointed with my head. Looking him up and down, I knew he was strong and well-built with muscle everywhere. There didn't seem to be a weak part on his body. However, it was amazing at the grace and care he used when we landed on the ground in front of the forest near my house.

Releasing me, Piccolo turned to leave, but stopped when I placed my hand on his arm. He faced me again with those dark eyes of his that seemed strong as well. I merely stared into them hoping that he would understand my silent message of thanks.

Wrapping my good arm around him, I hugged him gently. Then, I did something that surprised both him and me. I leaned up and kissed his green cheek. His face was very handsome with high, strong cheekbones and a long chin. But, it was his eyes that intrigued me the most. Looking into those eyes, I saw pain and loneliness that appeared to rival my own.

With a smile, he turned and took to the air once more, probably out of my life for good. I sighed as I watched him disappear before turning to walk towards the house. I knew the house would be empty, and Sandra's message would be waiting for me on the vid-phone, a phone that connected with a small screen so that the person on the other line could see my reactions. It was the best way for me to communicate over the phone. Only a few people had these new high-tech vid-phones; my cousin, my agent, and my pastor. These were the people I "spoke" with most often, but they were the ones who usually talked while I listened.

Now, as I watched the waning sun dip below the horizon, my heart wondered if I would see my green Adonis again. I only hoped that he understood what no words could say.

'No words I could say

Could bestow you enough honor

No song I could sing

Could give enough praise

The only thing I could ever do

Is look up at you

The only way I could ever thank you

Is by what I do…for you

No task I could do

Could ever match what you've done

No ode I could write

Could display enough glory

All I know is this

Though I cannot speak

I pray you know

What no words could say'