"The Pianist"

~Chapter Nine~

Thank you HopelessRomanticGurl for her idea of Troyella fluff(: I hope you like it.

It's not cold anymore, well it's a bit chilly; but there's a warmth that overpowers it. The only chill in fact is his head; a cold, wet chill and in his ear are quiet murmurings. A song? No...a psalm? Poetry? What is being whispered?

"How is he?" A small, tentative voice. He moans, shifting his head slightly but his eyes are heavy and they refuse to open.

"He's weak...tired.." Male. Strong. Sure of himself; who is he?

"I wish- I wish it was me lying there...he doesn't deserve to-" There's a swift movement, the man that was talking so near him has moved, but that doesn't mean that he can't hear them speak.

"Miss," says the man's voice again, "I assure he's fine, blaming yourself for his attack will not help him in the slightest." There's a sniffle and then a soft, warm hand caress' his cheek; the stubble on his chin prickles her hand and palm.

"He shouldn't have come looking for me- I shouldn't have gone into the woods-"

"Miss," the man says again, her hand is pulled away from his cheek. "Go talk to Mr Bolton. Surely he is more of comfort than I am here."

"But-"

"I am a healer...now, let me do what I'm supposed to do." There's a soft, womanly sigh followed by the jingle...bracelets? A necklace.

"I'm not sure if Troy wants to see me." There's a scoff and a tsk, the Healer is shaking his head as he goes back to tending Gregor.

"It's not like young master Bolton to be beside himself...but when you left out the door, he ran after you naught even thirty minutes later." The cool cloth is being dabbed on Gregor's forehead, the older man moves his ahead slightly once again; Gabriella hesitates to leave, the Healer sighs and looks over his shoulder. His eyes are warm and sorrowful at the same time, what a combination to have in one's eyes. "Your father is in good hands."

"Are you-"

"I'm sure, M'lady." the Healer nods, she bites her lip and shakes her head. "Take care of him..." her voice is weary, tired. Goose flesh litter her flesh from where she wishes her papa would just hold her...or maybe that's because as soon as she and Troy got here with her father he'd gone off and...hadn't said a word to her. She needs to speak with him; talk about his apology, talk about the things he said before he came looking for her- why he came looking for her? That didn't suggest he is as arrogant as she paints him to be, albeit he is arrogant and spoiled, but...maybe not as much as she paints him to be in her mind.

"He will be better by tomorrow, M'lady, I assure he will. He's in good hands." Gabriella nods solemnly, turning about on her heel and resting a hand on the door handle as she turns it. The Healer must know she is still in the room cause he let's out a calm- yet exasperated -breath and gestures her out by gently standing up from his position on the bedside of her father and then pushing her kindly into the hall where - as wolves - David and Lorana are pacing the floor. She freezes immediately and stares at them, they cease their pacing and watch her. Their eyes calculating.

"Thank...thank..." talking to wolves, if anyone's ever heard such a thing! She shakes her head, feeling her heart hammer in her chest as the flashback of her as a little girl getting attacked- no, she is not a little girl anymore. She will not let that flashback rule her life...

But still...no! Gabriella clears her throat, hugging her arms around her body as she turns and walks to where she knows is Troy's chamber.

Perhaps he should've followed her into the room where her father is? Been her comfort? Be. Yes, 'be', she needs it...preposterous. He's apologized, he's brought her back because it's freezing outside and she'd have frozen out there on her own...and her father? She'd have whined otherwise. He brought her back because he had thought she'd freeze. And be hungry. And...thirst and...and..

You care for her. The words dance on the edge of his mind; like a gypsy dancing tantalizingly around a fire with her face veiled and her eyes glittering in it's heated glow. Shaking his head, he stands up from his piano bench and walks slowly to the tub that the servants had brought up earlier; he begins stripping himself of his clothes and when he's fully naked and bare, he steps into the warm water. Sighing in contentment, he sinks into the water.

He leans his head on the tub of water that surrounds his naked body, his eyes are closed so he's encased once again in more darkness; but it's a comforting darkness. His fingers twitch in the water as he can practically hear music in his head- music that he will play on his piano later for sure. He huffs out a breath and lowers himself further in the water.

"Oh! I'm..I'm- forgive me- I-" her voice causes him to bolt upright, it sounds close...can't she tell that he's in a bath? However, the sound of her all flustered does amuse him. He feels his lips turn up in a smirk.

"Please, don't bother to apologize." He can sense that she is blushing, the temperature in the room has just raised. What he wouldn't give for one night of being able to see what colour her cheeks are tinted from that blush.

"I-I...the Healer said to...to.." ah, she's even more flustered; not that he blames her, has she even seen a naked man? Ever?

"Yes? What did the Healer say?" Is her father all right? Concern etches in his brow, but the teasing is in his voice still. Gabriella knots her fingers together, trying to look everywhere but the glorious when naked man in front of her. It's rude to stare and he's above your station! She chides herself, mentally giving herself a whipping so bad that if it were real, she wouldn't sit for a week. "Gabriella.." he says, bringing her out of her dizzying reverie. "Is your father all right?" She shakes her head to clear it and looks down.

"Ye-yes...the Healer just said to-I...I'm sorry I should've knocked. I thought you'd be at the piano-" he interrupts her with a slight barking laugh as he relaxes in the tub again.

"I was at the piano...and then I decided to bathe; the servants had brought up the tub full of water- hot water, mind you." Why is he telling her this? He sighs, "By the by, I didn't hear you come in...are you half ghost?" Surely.

"Uh.." she giggles a bit, and that sound makes Troy's mouth twitch up. "No-no...I just, I know how to be quiet." Not from what he's seen. Or not seen. He laughs again, running his fingers through his hair and this time he doesn't try to stop. Gabriella bites her lip, looking down; her fingers twisting in her hands.

"Stop..." she whispers, he must not hear her cause he is still laughing. She groans in irritation, taking a step closer to that tub- or maybe it is perhaps her desire controlling her body and emotions that caused her step forward and more forward to the point that are no bubbles in the water and she can see every inch of his naked being. And that means every inch by undressed inch. Something in her clenches as her breath hitches. "Please stop laughing.." perhaps now that's she closer- for whatever reason -he'd hear her and stop laughing as per her request.

"I'm...ha! Forgive me!" He's still laughing, clutching his ribs. She bites her lip, looking down at the water; trying to focus on just that and not what's inside it, but that doesn't stop the fact that she is barely breathing and her heart is beating...pounding...rabbit kicking in her chest. "Stop.." she sweeps her hand in front of her, causing her fingers to brush against the water; scooping some up in her palm and then...hitting him in the face with it. He instantly stops laughing and looks- well, moves his blind eyes to where she is.

"So..." he mutters, "you do have teeth." Gabriella swallows, fearfully taking a small step back, but Troy grabs the edge of the tub, grabbing with his hand and with his other reaching out to take her wrist. He smirks, and Gabriella knows to be afraid then. She blushes like mad when he stands from the water; showing his complete naked glory to her, she can't help but run her eyes over every part of him. "You really shouldn't have done that.." he says in a husky voice, she immediately adverts her gaze as if he can tell she's staring. Now you've done it, Gabriella. She tells herself.

Before she has the chance to utter a word, or even just to respond to what he's just said, she squeals as he uses his muscles to pull her into the tub; he catches her before she goes face first into the shallow water. "Ah!" he laughs, she blushes- the fact that a naked man is holding her in a tub full of hot water has nothing to do with it...nope...not at all. Then what is digging into her hip? She swallows, afraid to look down to find out. "Gabriella..." he says, pushing her down so she's sitting in the water while wearing her gown and then getting in front of her; settling his legs on either side of her. The blockade that is Troy Bolton. "You splashed me."

"I-I..." He is smirking, he can hear it in his tone. Using his hands, he feels up her arms; leaving a trail of burning fire in their wake. He leans forward, his lips brushing against her ear, "what is your weakness, Gabriella?" why does he make her name sound like a whispered prayer to a saint? She opens her mouth to speak, but she can't passed the sudden lump in her throat. Whatever was digging into her hip, is now prodding her where she doesn't want to be prodded. His fingers halt just at her underarms, the feel of her body- even if it is clothed -is wondrous; like a painter exploring his latest masterpiece, Troy traces circles on her shoulders; through the material of the gown, she fights back a groan.

She will not give him the satisfaction of urking her. Damn it's a hard feat. "Are you...sensitive?" her eyes widen, what?! If he wasn't crushing her beneath him, she'd shove him off and run out of the tub...if she found the strength to do such a thing, but right now? With his fingers drawing lazy circles on her and then the ...she looks down, seeing him. His length. His...shaft, swollen, large...prodding her. She blushes.

"You..you-"

"Pardon?" He teases, "are you speaking?" Yes, she is. Now get off. He laughs, trailing his fingers back down from her shoulders to her underarms where he tickles her lightly. She jumps, the apex of her thighs digging against his shaft. He laughs at her soft as a psalm moan. He tickles her again, she kicks her legs in the water. He chuckles. "So...you are sensitive.." he tickles her again, this time without abandon as she is kicking and laughing like the young child she once was.

"Ah ha ha!" She tosses her head to the side, "Troy! P-ple...sto-stop!" He laughs at her pleading, tickling her more and more. He shakes his head, scooting closer so that his knees touch the wall of the tub. And his shaft is now stabbing her pleasurably in her sex.

"No. You splashed me. I'm punishing you." Oh this is a punishment? Gabriella laughs, trying to grip his shoulders but it's near impossible when he is tickling her with such ferocity. When she finally manages to grasp his shoulders, she pushes him back, straddling him- where had the bravery come from? The water sloshes around them, and suddenly all playful fun stops when she realizes how close their faces are. They are both breathing heavy, she clears her throat as she slowly brings her hand up to remove some of his wet hair out of his face. He really is...quite a beautiful man. Handsome and sturdy. She's aware of his hands on her hips, but does nothing to tell him to remove them; he does that himself when he slides his left hand up her side, stopping at her shoulder when she tenses at how close he is touching her dismantled looking face. "What do you look like Gabriella?" He whispers, playing with the tip of her now-damp hair. "I want to see you.." she bites her lip, lifting his other hand from her hip and placing it on the right side of her face. She gasps at how warm his hands are on her flesh, she leans into his touch as he's examining her skin with his fingertips. And then he touches the left side with his other hand.

He feels his heart stop at the scars on her face, how her left eye dips down and her lips turn down in a half sneer. What happened to her? Was this when she ran away earlier...he feels guilt build up in him that he couldn't protect her from whatever had attacked her- "Childhood injury." She whispers, he tilts his head to the left. "I had gone into the woods...after my father..." her voice is soft, as if she's miles away. His thumb traces her lips. God, he'd give anything to see her; to actually see her. "It was a wolf."

"Surely a wolf can't leave marks like this-" he feels her nod in interruption, his heart...well, he doesn't know what happened, but his heart seemed to have swelled beyond the capacity his chest can hold. She had been hurt. "Where was your father at the time this happened to you?" She snaps her eyes open, glaring at him. Is he accusing her father-

"My father is not responsible for this!"

"I didn't say that, I just merely asked where-"

"I know what you asked! Oh!" She stands from the water; the gown that is not hers, but Lorana's is now wet and dripping when she steps out. He straightens himself, "Gabrie-"

"No," she says a little too loudly, glaring at him still. "My father had nothing to do with my getting injured as a child. I was the stubborn, little prat that followed him into the woods when I should've stayed at the house...when he told me too! How dare you accuse him of such a thing!"

Is he hearing her correctly, "That's not what I was-"

"Just...just..I don't want to hear it! Oh!" She marches toward the door, twisting the handle in her hand and yanking it open. "Gabriella!" she slams the door as his call to her reaches her ears. She leans against the flat surface, crossing her arms over her chest and letting out a breath. How can a man like that...just make her so...so...infatuated in him while he has the audacity to be so frustrating?

"Are we there yet?" Sharpay asks impatiently, gazing out the window; it's still dark, about an hour or so till dawn. What is taking so damn long? Ryan is asleep on the velvet bench of the carriage, Adriana- the lazy priss -is holed up in the corner with her knees drawn toward her and her cheek resting on her knees. Sharpay huffs out a breath when the driver doesn't answer. Poking her head out of the small window, "Driver!" She yells, "two requests, first...are we there yet?"

"Not yet, ma'am." the driver says in a monotone voice, as if bored with his line of work. Or just trying to hide his irritation at the blond. "And the other request?"

"Yes," Sharpay says curtly, "Speed up. I want to get there by dawn."

"Ma'am, the horses are getting tired-"

"And you're getting on my last nerve. Speed up. Or this will be your last ride as a carriage driver for the royal family." The driver rolls his eyes, and mutters a tolerant 'yes, ma'am' as he clucks his tongue and snaps the reins and the horses go from a walk to a quick trotting; but they are tired, and if Sharpay is working them hard still tomorrow and they haven't reached Bolton castle by dawn even then...oh, she would be mad. The driver shudders at her fury...then again, making her angry is what most of the servants live for; seeing her face pale and then turn blue as she breaths into a burlap sack to calm herself is more comical than when her brother -as a child- had soaped the ballroom and caused all the guests to slip on their faces. Oh, the driver laughs at the memory still, and Ryan is the better of the two.

"Hurry it up!" Sharpay yells before pulling herself into the carriage and resting against the back of the seat. She hates lazy servants. How can her brother sleep when the driver is being so...disobedient?

:D Hope you like it! Don't forget to review!

~Elena xx