"The Pianist"
~Chapter Six~
I have decided on a song for Troy for this story, "Falling In The Black" by Skillet...what song do you think is for Gabriella? Do you have one for the other characters after reading the story so far? Let me know in a review after you have read this chapter! xx
He heard them. The tentative footsteps through the music of the piano, he doesn't know why that caused him to halt playing...if that even was the reason, but he sits now at his piano, waiting for whomever walked up to his door to open it and step in. A minute passes. Two. Three. Five. He sighs, turning his complete attention to the keys that begged for his fingers again; begged for his fingers like the skin of a woman would be begging. The melody he plays is soft; his fingers flitting across the softer, more airy, tones; his world turns to hues of soft green and sky blue, wildflowers blooming around him and then a brook running softly nearby. Music always changes his world; it puts his mind in a place where everything is his own. Normally, he loves creating a world of his own with his music, but when he hit a certain note...he stopped; turning his blind eyes toward where he knew the door is closed shut.
Why does he keep expecting it to open? "I'm going mad," he whispers, pushing himself away from the piano, he slides off the bench and straightens his tunic before heading to his door; his hands outstretched in front of him. His fingers curl around the handle, he pulls it open- why he expects to hear soft, shallow breathing...he doesn't know. "I'm definitly losing my mind." He says to himself again, tapping his fingers on the banister of the stairs.
What is it that had gotten him from his piano? Out of his room?
What has him...anxious?
The woods are not much to fret over in the daylight hours; the trees don't resemble claws of beasts so much as ...well, branches just reaching into the sky. Gregor tightens his hold on his satchel, his feet crunching and breaking twigs and small sticks under his weight. He coughs, but quickly recovers as he keeps marching on; he wants to get far into the woods before dusk. Before dusk he wants to have camp set up. Before dusk he hopes to find his daughter...blessedly, by the powers of the Lord, all right.
Please, Lord my God, let her be all right. He thinks, sending up a prayer to the skies as he marches on. Twigs crunch and snap under his weight and he hums a tune that is familiar to him. At the same time completely foreign. The wind is chilly as the sun climbs higher and sets lower in the sky, he tugs his tunic and cloak tighter around him. How did Gabriella survive this? If she survived it- no, he mustn't think that way. His daughter did make it. She's safe somewhere...he just needs to find her.
Now, where to start looking?
"You went a little ...well, too much." David says to his wife, both the husband and wife are taking a stroll about the beautiful garden's of the palace; they were listening to play, but he stopped playing near an hour ago. Lorana is adament to check on her son, but David is keeping a tight hold on her arm and continuing their stroll. She looks at him with her big green eyes and smirks, feigning innocence.
"I don't know what you mean, my dear." She purrs, tracing circles on his clothed chest. He stops her wrist with her hand and stares hard into her eyes. She still smirks. The wolf in her, the one that comes out with the sun when it's climbing higher in the sky only to fall down in a matter of hours.
"You, my dear," David says, his voice half way between a snarl and a seductive groan, "like to lay things a little thick don't you? That poor girl at break fast? Why were you asking her questions?" She giggles, the audacity! Retracting her hand and walking away to control her giggle fit. David narrows his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest and juts out his bottom lip in a pout...well, half pout, half sneer.
"What's so amusing?" She giggles, whirling around to face him and she still smiles like a child.
"'why were you asking her questions?' Dear! Honestly!" She nearly yells, "I believe it's called making conversation-"
"You couldn't see that she was uncomfortable with your attempts at conversation?" Lorana shakes her head, waving her hand in some direction as she steps closer to him and wraps her arms around his neck. She pecks his lips and rubs her nose against his before speaking. Ah, the powers of distraction. Or this seduction?
"Love, she...she could be the one to make Troy see...and break whatever ...'curse' there is here-"
"You needn't press her for information." He says sternly, trying not to fall for that spark in her eyes that always made him seem more animal than man. He's reasonable, but when his wife looks at him with that...that seductive spark, he loses all reason and turns back into his neanderthal ancestor.
"I'm sorry. I apologize..." she whispers, trailing her hands down to his chest and resting them there. David's voice is but a whisper when he speaks, his lips hovering just over hers.
"Do not apologize to me. It's that girl in the castle...she's probably trying to run-where do you think you're going?" Lorana had pushed herself away from him, beginning to run frantically into the castle. The doors that lead from the old ballroom to the gardens were slightly ajar from when she and David had came through; she runs into them and and picks up her skirt to run faster...well, she would've if she hadn't seen the object of their conversation standing with her back against the door and her eyes closed as if searching for...some sort of peace.
"Gabriella.." she says breathlessly, walking to the young woman; who snaps her eyes open and regards the older woman. "What are you-"
"I'm sorry!" she rushes out to say, "I just..I ran to the first door I saw, I didn't know that I wasn't supposed to-"
"Gabriella," Lorana says, grabbing her wrists and holding them in her hands gently. Like a mother would. "It's fine that you're in here. Perfectly fine. I was just on my way to check on you-"
"You're out of breath-" Lorana laughs a bit, then stares at her; her hair is all fly away and her eyes are...God, she can't help but stare at her marred and twisted side. It's so...different. Gabriella shifts under her gaze and turns her face away so that her 'ugly' side is hidden from her eyes. Lorana sighs, blushing that she'd been caught staring.
"Forgive me. I just was...how did you come by that scar?"
"I was..I was a child.." Gabriella mutters, biting her lower lip and keeping her eyes down on the floor. The older woman awaits for her to continue. "I had followed my father into the woods...and there was a wolf who-"
"Say no more," Lorana says, holding up a hand and then pulling her into her bosom to hold her close. "I understand now..your fear of wolves-"
"There was two in here. In the room I was in..." she whispers, perhaps Lorana could answer her questions but she instantly regrets saying anything when the older woman stiffens and pulls away slightly.
"Dear-"
"They saved my life. In the woods last night...I-I...I've been afraid of them...but - and I know how silly this must sound - I want to thank-"
"Dear, their wolves-"
"I understand that, but-"
"Perhaps you'll see them soon and you'll get your chance...but right now, would you like a tour? See the garden perhaps." Gabriella bites her lip, wanting to decline but suddenly the urge for fresh air and to get out of this stuffy castle - if a place this large can be categorized as 'stuffy' - was vital. She nods slowly, pushing herself off the door and smoothing the invisible wrinkles from her gown that Lorana had loaned her. It's blue with a decent showing flesh at the breasts; not enough to keep her inside, but enough to let a man have a view and want more and more and more...
"That sounds fine." She whispers, her shoulders going between slumping forward and straight as an arrow. "Will you give me the-"
"Me? Oh no, I'm much to busy with my husband." A lie, but she always knows what she's doing. "But I'm sure my son, Troy, won't mind at all."
The best thing about being blind is that your other senses get heightened, and therefore when Troy had slowly walked down the steps into the foyer; and is now standing in the large doors of the ballroom where he can't help but over hear his mother and this 'Gabriella', so this woman has a name? He thinks with a knowing smirk. The door handle wiggles and before he can escape to his room it opens and his mother comes out with this Gabriella at her side. "Oh Troy," he hears her chirp. He narrows his eyes. "Gabriella would like a tour-"
"Then have a sighted person give it to her." He says, chewing on his inner cheek as he spat out the acid words. Lorana sighs, "Troy, the servants are all busy-"
"I don't recall giving them the time off." His hands fist and he feels like whipping something. Someone. Lorana scoffs, waving him off and taking Gabriella's hand.
"Just show her around-"
"I'm blind mother." Troy says, "have a servant do it." Lorana looks at her son and then at Gabriella, excusing herself politely, she grabs Troy's tunic front and drags him a fair distance where Gabriella is not in hearing range.
'When are you going to stop being a prat?" Lorana hisses, Troy crosses his arms over his chest and sneers.
"When I die-"
"Don't even joke about death!" She scolds her son, slapping him alongside the head. "I've lost too many children to talk about..." her voice trails off, it's true; Troy is the last of 12 babies born; and the only one to survive birth. The others have died only 48 hours of being born. Troy's the lucky one, he's survived being born; he's alive and walking and breathing...but he appreciates it naught. But even he feels his mother's pain for his choice of words.
"I apologize.." he says, his voice harsh but his words sincere. "It's not right of me to say things that make you...uncomfortable. But I won't give her a tour."
"Troy," Lorana whispers, "don't you want to be free of ...of this ...curse that is upon you? Us? The castle?" He sighs, shaking his head and running a hand through his neatly combed hair. It stops at his shoulders; the tails of his coat joustle slightly at the movement.
"Of course I do, mother-"
"Then please...for me?" She bats her eye lashes, but Troy is stony and clears his throat. "You're pouting mother." He says simply, a smirk playing on his lips. Troy Bolton doesn't smile or grin, he smirks or frowns. Lorana laughs, "yes I am...now, for me?"
Thinking. He's thinking of walking up and going back to his room where his piano is, but instead something makes him say "Yes" and she claps her hands in glee, tugging him back to where Gabriella stands nervously with her fingers knotted and her eyes downcast. Suddenly, Troy feels like his fingers need to be cracked, his palms are sweaty and his gut is wrenching in a horrible feeling of mixed emotions. But there's one common emotion that blankets him; nervousness. "Why am I nervous?" Lorana looks at him, smiling like a proud mother hen.
"Troy..."
"I did not mean to speak it aloud-"
"Doesn't matter. I just..it's good to see you..you know, out of that chamber of yours." Troy sighs, running a hand through his hair; his heart pounding behind his ribs as he feels his mother stop and tug on his hand, pretty soon he feels a much smaller hand in his and then his mother's retreating footsteps reach his ears. Now it's just them.
"Uh..." she whispers, Troy stares at her. Well, stares at the blackness that surrounds him. He hates being blind, especially now. He wants to see her. "I-I.."
"You like music?" He asks, idly wondering and genuinely curious. Gabriella looks up at him smiling.
"I-I...I love it." Troy smiles, a full smile; something rare for him.
"Good. You can help me to my chamber again...this time, you're welcome to come in with me."
"At least a hundred invitations." Sharpay says, pacing the floor of the study where there are servants making lists of the guests. "Oh and include Troy Bolton and his parents." The servants look up at her, ceasing their writing, and she stops her pacing to glower at them. "Why have you stopped the moving of that quill?"
"M-ma'am...Troy Bolton...he-he used to rule-"
"I'm aware of his family being the former ruling family." Sharpay says icily, squaring her shoulders; beginning to pace again. The servants; Adriana is her name, she's small for her size, 15 years old and expecting her first child. She was Troy's best friend as a child, but when the Evans' took over and the Bolton's forced to go elsewhere, Adriana couldn't leave with her friend. She hasn't seen him since.
"Mistress," Adriana whispers, "Troy Bolton i-is...please just...let them be-Ah!" Sharpay had whipped around, her slender hand stinging the young, pregnant woman's cheek. Her eyes glowing.
"Troy Bolton is on the guest list! Adriana, you and I will personally go to his family's castle and hand it to him...oh and make sure to his invitation special." Sharpay smirks, stopping in front of a rather large mirror that covers the entire wall of the study; lined with white gold and framed with mahogany, polished daily so it has that glittering shine. "After all, he is to be my husband."
"He doesn't wish to marry-" Adriana starts, but halts her words when Sharpay whips around to glower even more at her; the young lady cowers and takes a fearful step back; the older servants stand in front of her protectively. Sharpay juts out her upper lip and curls her lips in a sneer.
"Remember when to hold your tongue, Serf." Sharpay spits, spinning on her foot and strolling out of the study. Adriana let's her shoulders droop and a breath comes from her throat as she falls into the red velvet she was sitting in when she was making the guest lists with the other serfs.
Hope you all enjoyed it! Yay or nay? Review!(:
~Elena xxx