Sentimental Journey, a vicious, v. e. schwab fanfic

The music room isn't necessarily Olivia's favorite room in Gallant - if she properly thought about it, she may choose the kitchen where Edgar tosses her bits of apple and dough as he makes supper, or the garden at dusk and she can see Hannah waiting on the steps for her. But the music room is where she ends up most days - sometimes with Matthew sitting on the bench with her, his fingers tracing the keys that he can never fully press down, sometimes by herself. Those days, she pushes down on the keys for him and they play together, a ghostly conductor and his flesh-and-blood protegee, filling Gallant with halting, haunting notes. Those days are the days when she feels closer to the Prior family, like she isn't by herself in the world.

Today is not one of those days.

Today, Matthew is not in the music room, and Olivia has not yet determined where he would be otherwise. But she doesn't have the energy or the mental determination to look today, so she sits on the bench and lines her fingers on the same keys that Matthew usually lays claim to. Her fingers itch, as they do whenever she thinks of her mother's diary with her father's illustrations, as they do whenever she misses having some physical connection to her family. Scraping the skin of her fingertips against the edge of the yellowed keys, Olivia presses down, one finger at a time, the rest of them lifted high in the air. The melody that Matthew has been teaching her - he only has been playing the one - floats out, not nearly as discordant as the first time he tried to show her how to play. She concentrates on pressing the right keys, not on the speed or the beauty of all the notes together. That will come at a later time. For now, she just presses on the keys for the boy who never could again, and hopes that her music is not too different from Matthew's.

The song trickles out slowly, and as it does, her anxiety grows sharper, louder in her head. The notes don't sound like Matthew's, and never will, not without his guidance and how was he to guide her? He was gone. Even his ghoul, little company that he was, was not here today and who was to say that he would stay forever…

Olivia pushes the heel of her palms into the keyboard, a cacophony of sounds breaking the trail of notes she had been crafting. She grounds herself against the ground, pushing the bench back and standing to face it.

Matron Agatha had shown her how the notes on sheet music correlated to the keys before starting their solitary lesson. How could you know how to play an instrument, if you did not know what you are reading? She would lecture in her creaky voice, holding the lid open for Olivia to stick her head in. This note on the first line, here on top, that is E, then goes F, G, A, B, C, D, and then it repeats. Down here, it goes A, G, F, E, D, C, then B, and back to A…

Olivia may not have been as naturally gifted at playing the piano as she or Matron Agatha may have hoped for, but she had recreated those notes in the back of her mother's journal back then, hoping to never lose that knowledge of musical communication. Now, Olivia lifts up the bench cushion, and she sees the booklets of sheet music lying in state.

Physically shaking her head to lose her morose thoughts, Olivia takes the top packet in her hands and opens it up. Inside this particular booklet, it is clear that Matthew took pride in his sheet music - there were no tears, no stains, nothing to indicate how long he pored over the papers. No sign of the boy that grew up alone in this house and the man that died to protect it and her.

Olivia blinks back the sudden dampness gathering in the corners and squares her shoulders. Exhaling deeply, she narrows her eyes in concentration, looking at the notes. The title, You are My Sunshine makes her feel more melancholy than before, so she closes the booklet and sets it back down on the bench, to the side of the remaining sheet music. Picking up the pile of booklets and paper folders, Olivia begins flipping through them, peeking at the titles as they are thumbed forward. Stormy Weather…That Lucky Old Sun…Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree…

She pauses near the bottom of the pile - this folder has Sentimental Journey pushed a bit over the top, the edges of the paper frayed and yellowing. This piece had clearly been played much more than the others, loved more by Matthew or prior Priors. She places the other pieces of sheet music back into the bench's storage with one hand, holding Sentimental Journey higher up, and then tugs the top of the page up. The notes look simpler, a few at a time and only using the higher notes - she could learn this. Olivia could play this. She smiles and opens the folder, and a piece of paper falls out and down onto the floor, nearly underneath the piano. Olivia huffs a little, and bends down to grab the yellowing paper, pulling it back off the floor. Words blur on the page as she lifts it up, but a few jump out immediately in a familiar script that has her heart beating faster.

My dearest Arthur—

Olivia stills, except for her trembling hand as she stares at a letter written in her mother's handwriting. A new piece of Grace for her to have and hold - even if it wasn't addressed to her. Pushing aside any guilt she could feel, Olivia grasps the letter with both her hands and leans back down onto the bench, her heart thudding in ears as she reads her mother's words.

My dearest Arthur—

By the time you read this, I will be long gone from Gallant. I wish I could have had a proper goodbye, but I know if I had told you beforehand, you would either convince me to stay and I would hate you forever, or I'd still leave, knowing you hate me for doing so. I cannot bear either option, so this is how it has to be.

I wish I could be the sister you deserve, the Prior Gallant needs. But I can't - not now. I have a higher purpose now - something more important to live and die for.

I'm pregnant, Arthur.

I have to keep my daughter safe, Arthur. In falling in love with her father, I have made an enemy of what is behind the wall, and I cannot appease him without destroying everything that Gallant is. Not unless I run.

I am no fool - as much as I want to believe that someday I will come back, I do not think I can. I am sorry that you will never meet her. You would have been the best uncle in the world to her. I can see it now. She and Matthew would play knights and princesses and you'd pretend to be the fierce dragon that one of them would have to slay. Laughter would ring through these walls like never before and even now as I am imagining it, I can't help but to mourn the loss of it. I can only hope that you would eventually forgive me for taking that from you before you could even have the choice, and grant me the grace of second chances.

Grace…that is a good name for a girl. Perhaps I will name her Grace, in the hopes that even now, you and Isabelle and Matthew can find it in your hearts to forgive me for leaving.

I can only hope that you find this letter - I left it in our song. Play it for me, Arthur. And know that I will always love you, brother.

Grace

Olivia only realizes that she is crying when a tear falls onto the word love, smudging the ink and causing little black veins in the paper. But she doesn't stop crying. For once, she lets herself feel the emotions and the tears come stronger until she is shuddering from quiet sobs, shaking every time she takes a breath. She cries for her mother, lost before Olivia could know her; for Arthur, driven to madness and dying, perhaps not knowing why Grace had left him; for Matthew, gone just as he was opening up.

Olivia doesn't know how long her head was bent over the piano, just that the shadows are longer when she finally lifts her head and gives one last shaky breath. Then she carefully places the letter down on the top of the piano, roughly wipes the tears off her face with the soft sleeve of her dress, and sets up the sheet music on the music rack. Sentimental Journey waits for her, and she readies her fingers on the keyboard, just as Matthew had taught her. She begins to clumsily play the piece, the soft and quiet notes calming her. She reads the lyrics as she plays, imagining someone singing it to her.

Across the piano, Olivia can see a ghoul approaching. Grace leans against the piano, watching Olivia's fingers on the keys. Her mouth seems to move, and even though there is no sound, Olivia knows what Grace is saying.

Gonna take a sentimental journey

Gonna set my heart at ease

Gonna make a sentimental journey

To renew old memories

Got my bag, got my reservation

Spent each dime I could afford

Like a child in wild anticipation

I long to hear that all aboard

Seven, that's the time we leave, at seven

I'll be waitin' up for heaven

Countin' every mile of railroad track

That takes me back

Never thought my heart could be so yearning

Why did I decide to roam?

I gotta take this sentimental journey

Sentimental journey home