[One Multipart-Fic]
Jun. 1st, 2006 09:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwyneddTitle: Lyude - A Symphony. Chapter 1: Overture
Rating: PG (for now)
Characters/Pairing: Slight (also for now) Kalas/Lyude; future Ladekhan/Lyude and Lyude/? (all from Baten Kaitos)
Status: 1/9
Warnings: Slight angst (eventual massive angst); pre-slash (eventual all out slash, maybe het); flashbacks, spoilers, loads of stuff only a music geek will get.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Baten Kaitos, it all belongs to someone richer and smarter than me. This is done only for fan purposes and I make no money.
A/N: This will be a nine-part, Lyude-centered fic. Each chapter is named after and slightly based off of one of Lyude’s finishers, thus, there will be a LOT of musical terminology. You have been warned.
EDIT as of 1/1/08: This fic is on permanent hiatus. I'd love to finish it someday, but I just don't have the drive right now. It might change.
In his first moment of spare time, Lyude went to pull out and revisit his piano. He had brought it with him from Diadem, but it had been in the lower storage area of the Mindeer since then, owing in truth to all of his journey's more distracting events.
The piano itself was small, compact - little more that an enlarged harpsichord - and as suited for travel as a piano could be. Lyude - after much searching among the deeper parts of the cargo deck - had been slightly perturbed to fin the piano wedged between three chairs and a wardrobe. A thin layer of dust cloaked its burgundy finish -
“It matches your hair, Lyude,” Almarde had said, “And your eyes. Be sure to play it for me sometime; you always look so handsome at the piano.”
- and a low Ab had been removed at some point during his travels, but Lyude was fairly sure that it still quite playable.
His first attempts at removing it, however, had proved unerringly futile. He peeled off his jacket, and attempted to simply pull the piano out. After the rather disheartening discovery that it no longer had wheels, Lyude removed the chairs from one side and tried to pick up one end and drag it out into a more maneuverable area.
Only his finely-honed reflexes saved the piano from certain destruction – Lyude soon discovered that the only thing keeping the wardrobe upright was, indeed, the piano. He was soon able to re-balance the clunky furniture, but was still presented with the initial problem – getting the damnable piano out.
Obviously, he thought, this called for reinforcements.
“Gibari!”
No answer.
“Gibari!” he called again, cupping his hands around his mouth.
This time, the sound of footprints and a small, wooden creak (the third stair going below decks was a bit loose) drifted down the crate-lined corridors.
A familiar weathered face peeked around the corner, followed by the rest of Gibari. He swept an ambling look around the area, taking in the slanting wardrobe, the multiple fresh scrapes in the dust of the floor, and - a particularly rare sight – Lyude half-out of uniform.
Gibari cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. “You get attacked down here, kid?”
Lyude brushed his hands off and offered Gibari a small smile. “Not quite. I'm trying to extricate my piano, but as you can see, I'm having some difficulties.” He finished with a wry curving of his lips.
Gibari barked a short laugh. ”Heh, not a problem, kid. I gotcha covered.” Audibly cracking his knuckles, he strode towards the wardrobe.
The older man pulled to wardrobe upright, dragged it to a back corner and propped it up against a pile of crates with an ease that left Lyude's eyes a bit wider than normal.
“That better?” Gibari stretched his arm out.
Blinking, Lyude replied, “Um, yes. Much better. You have my thanks, Gibari.” He offered him another small smile and gathered his gloves and jacket. He placed them on top of the piano.
“You gonna need anymore help?”
Lyude turned around. “No, thank you. I should be able to handle it from here.” Gibari nodded and as he turned to walk away Lyude noticed, to his brief surprise, that there was a pin on the fisherman's belt that had been engraved with the Royal Crest of Diadem.
Lyude’s brows furrowed. “Ladekhan...” he whispered. The king had given him a duplicate of the crest just before Kalas and the others had embarked for Anuenue (a lifetime ago, so it felt). A parting gift, Ladekhan had told him. And recognition of his status of “Honorary Knight of Diadem”. How had Gibari - a simple fisherman - gotten a Knight’s Crest?
Gibari’s diminishing footsteps triggered a squeak from the faulty stair. The sound snapped Lyude out of his Diadem-themed reverie and back to the Mindeer. Mindeer. Something in storage. Piano. Yes, that’s it, he thought. Piano. My piano.
Now that it was free, the piano did not present much of a problem. The keyboard was as long as Lyude’s torso and only weighed about 50 pounds - he hefted it with a minimal amount of difficulty, and, though his balance was a questionable, wove his way out of the storage room, up the stairs and onto the main deck.
He was met by a surprisingly strong breeze that whipped his scarlet hair around and caused him to waver for a moment at the top of the stairs. Regaining his footing once again, he carefully made his way across the deck to the main cabin. The door was ajar (he had left it that way) and Lyude nudged it open. He stepped into the room, kicking the door shut behind him with his foot. Lyude placed the piano in the center of the room, positioned so that anyone walking in would see him playing from the side.
He pulled a chair from one of the tables, and placed it resolutely in front of the piano. Lyude looked down at the keyboard for a moment, and allowed himself a small smile. It would feel good to play again.
He sat down in his chair and placed his hands lightly upon the keys. Right thumb on middle C, left little finger on bass C. Slowly, as though easing into it, Lyude began a warmup exercise. 1-5-4-3-2-1-5-4-3-2-1-5-4-3-2-1-5-4-3-2-1....he began to gain speed as he moved up the piano, playing the pattern in different keys signatures. There was a brief pause as his 3rd finger slipped on an F#. As he reached the end of the exercise, his fingers began a familiar pattern, and the warmup turned into his favorite piece. He couldn’t quite remember what it was called (indeed, it had been so long, he was surprised he could still play it), only that it was the first movement in a once-famous piano suite.
He lost himself in the music, in the shifting patterns and dancing fingers. His right hand wove an triplet figure melody while his left hand contrasted with an eight note harmony. The piece sped up as Lyude began to move with the music. His foot controlled the sustain petal while his fingers - and sometimes hands - moved around and between each other. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, enjoying the flow of sound and trusting his muscle memory to keep his fingers in step with their intricate dance.
As the music neared the end, Lyude imperceptibly slowed his fingers down until they ended on 3 lightly touched chords and barely pressed the final note. He brought his head forward again and opened his eyes. A spot of moisture dropped onto the back of a stationary hand. Lyude, slightly puzzled, raised his fingers to his cheeks and was surprised to find that he was crying.
“That was pretty amazing.”
Lyude jerked up to see Kalas astride a backwards chair, his elbows resting on the back. He was looking at Lyude with half-lidded eyes and a small smile, as though he had just awoken from a good dream. For a split second, Lyude was slightly shocked and pleased to see that the other man was indeed smiling, not smirking or grimacing as he was in the habit of doing. The smile softened his face and he momentarily looked his age, instead of 10 years plus.
Lyude shook his head, smiling in return. “Thank you for your kind words, Kalas,” he said, wiping his face off with the back of his hand, “though I must apologize for my current condition, I’m afraid I was quite overcome.” Kalas, his eyes now fully opened, ran a hand through his tousled blue hair.
“Nah, it’s ok. I think I might have almost - maybe - started crying myself. A little.” Kalas shifted his eyes and leaned back a little, gripping the back of the chair with his hands. “ I didn’t know you could play like that.”
Lyude dropped his eyes, somewhat embarrassed at the compliment. Very few people back in Alfard had enjoyed his playing; most - including Skeed and Vallye - just thought it a waste of time and more proof of Lyude’s disgraceful attitude.
There was an uncomfortable pause in which Lyude began playing some random exercises on the piano again. Lyude was surprised, but pleased, that Kalas was speaking to him. After discovering that their End Magnus had been stolen, the rest of the group had been angry, but determined to keep going. Kalas, though, became suspicious of everyone and everything, especially Lyude (Savyna was moody as well, but she was always like that). The other man had been avoiding him like the plague and glaring at him whenever they happened to make eyes contact. It seemed, however, that Kalas had come to his senses.
Kalas, tactful as ever, finally broke the silence. “So, are you worried?”
Lyude jumped at bit at the sudden return of a human voice, and accidentally pressed both palms down onto the piano, resulting in a jarring chord.
He turned towards Kalas again. “Worried about what?”
Kalas fixed him with a weighted gaze. “Returning to Alfard, of course. Weren’t you banished? I can’t imagine the Empire will be very happy to see you again.”
“...yes, well, I suppose not.” At least he would be able to see Almarde again. “But I shall cross that bridge when the time comes. Until then, I am more concerned about the current location of our wayward End Magnus.” Lyude finished in a bit of a rush, being more than a little agitated about breaching this subject with Kalas.
The blue-haired man grunted out a “Me too.” and lapsed into a gruff silence once again.
Lyude’s shoulder’s slumped in disappointment. He’s always so paranoid, Lyude thought. He let out a heavy sigh and brushed his fingertips across the top of the keys. Or maybe I’m just the kind of person whom it’s hard to trust. Lyude reached up and grabbed his gloves and jacket. Still seated, he shrugged into his jacket and placed his gloves in his back pocket. Maybe it’s not me, specifically, who can’t be trusted. As he did up his buttons, his fingers brushed past a familiar melted hole in the fabric. He paused, looked at Kalas, and looked back at the laser-made hole.
I suppose, he thought, that nobody ever really trusts an Imperial Soldier. Lyude took in a deep breath.
“Kalas,” Lyude whispered, and saw the other man look up at him again, “do you know when the last time I played this piano was?” Kalas cast him a dubious glance. “It was more than a year ago, before the ... incident that caused my banishment to Diadem. I played at the funeral of someone very special to me - someone whom I loved.
“Someone who tried to kill me and instead died at my hands.” At this, Kalas jerked up and stared at Lyude with wide eyes. Lyude turned back to the piano and began playing again, this time a very slow, and mournful piece with simple chords in the left hand and two simultaneous melodies in the right hand; a flowing triplet feel underneath a sharper, minimal procession of notes.
“I played this piece at the funeral. It was her favorite, for some reason; she said it relaxed her and soothed her mind. It is ironic, yes? that it was the piece I dedicated to her every time I played it, yet it became her funeral dirge.” Lyude looked at Kalas from the corner of his eye and saw him with his head down. The piece grew ever so slightly in volume until Lyude could no longer whisper over it, but instead had to talk normally.
“Or maybe it made sense that the only true peace she had in life was in listening to her death song.” Lyude let out humorless laugh. “Not as though the Empire cared, of course. They didn’t care about the death of a simple soldier - there are always more to be had. And that disregard spread to the troops. Who really cared if they lived to see tomorrow? I would have liked dying, back then. Perhaps my banishment was the best thing that could have happened to me.”
The piece came to end as the bass line moved up and ended on a dark chord. With his hands still on the keyboard, Lyude took a deep and shuddering breath, trying to fight back the lump in his throat. Tears were already streaming down his face, leaving dark spots on his jacket. “My apologies once again, Kalas. Maybe digging this piano out was not the best idea.” Kalas made no sound to indicate he had heard Lyude.
Lyude stood and replaced the chair, his head bowed. As he turned back around, he felt a hand grasp his wrist and he was spun around into a rough hug. Kalas spoke in a guilty tone.
“So you really are worried about going back.”
“Kalas...” Lyude was still somewhat surprised at Kalas’ turn in attitude.
“Let me finish.” Kalas grasped Lyude’s shoulders and held him out at arms length. “I...I’m sorry for always placing my suspicions on you. I hate the Empire with everything I am, and you’re from there, so ... I ... but you’re not really like that, are you?” Kalas hung his head briefly and let out a sigh. “Look, what I’m trying to say is, I trust you. I know...I know you didn’t take the End Magnus, and, you...” He trailed off and let go of Lyude’s shoulders.
Lyude took all this in with a slowly growing sense of contentment. “Thank you, Kalas,” he said, wiping his eyes once again. “I’m glad to be worthy of your trust.” Kalas reddened faintly and began walking towards the door. “ Don’t..don’t worry about it.”
“And, Lyude? Xella told me to come tell you we’ll be docking at Alfard really soon, so be ready for whatever happens.” Kalas walked out and closed the door it behind him.
Lyude walked back over to his piano and took a long look at it and the memories it entailed. Slowly, he pulled on his gloves and followed Kalas out the door.
Rating: PG (for now)
Characters/Pairing: Slight (also for now) Kalas/Lyude; future Ladekhan/Lyude and Lyude/? (all from Baten Kaitos)
Status: 1/9
Warnings: Slight angst (eventual massive angst); pre-slash (eventual all out slash, maybe het); flashbacks, spoilers, loads of stuff only a music geek will get.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Baten Kaitos, it all belongs to someone richer and smarter than me. This is done only for fan purposes and I make no money.
A/N: This will be a nine-part, Lyude-centered fic. Each chapter is named after and slightly based off of one of Lyude’s finishers, thus, there will be a LOT of musical terminology. You have been warned.
EDIT as of 1/1/08: This fic is on permanent hiatus. I'd love to finish it someday, but I just don't have the drive right now. It might change.
In his first moment of spare time, Lyude went to pull out and revisit his piano. He had brought it with him from Diadem, but it had been in the lower storage area of the Mindeer since then, owing in truth to all of his journey's more distracting events.
The piano itself was small, compact - little more that an enlarged harpsichord - and as suited for travel as a piano could be. Lyude - after much searching among the deeper parts of the cargo deck - had been slightly perturbed to fin the piano wedged between three chairs and a wardrobe. A thin layer of dust cloaked its burgundy finish -
“It matches your hair, Lyude,” Almarde had said, “And your eyes. Be sure to play it for me sometime; you always look so handsome at the piano.”
- and a low Ab had been removed at some point during his travels, but Lyude was fairly sure that it still quite playable.
His first attempts at removing it, however, had proved unerringly futile. He peeled off his jacket, and attempted to simply pull the piano out. After the rather disheartening discovery that it no longer had wheels, Lyude removed the chairs from one side and tried to pick up one end and drag it out into a more maneuverable area.
Only his finely-honed reflexes saved the piano from certain destruction – Lyude soon discovered that the only thing keeping the wardrobe upright was, indeed, the piano. He was soon able to re-balance the clunky furniture, but was still presented with the initial problem – getting the damnable piano out.
Obviously, he thought, this called for reinforcements.
“Gibari!”
No answer.
“Gibari!” he called again, cupping his hands around his mouth.
This time, the sound of footprints and a small, wooden creak (the third stair going below decks was a bit loose) drifted down the crate-lined corridors.
A familiar weathered face peeked around the corner, followed by the rest of Gibari. He swept an ambling look around the area, taking in the slanting wardrobe, the multiple fresh scrapes in the dust of the floor, and - a particularly rare sight – Lyude half-out of uniform.
Gibari cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. “You get attacked down here, kid?”
Lyude brushed his hands off and offered Gibari a small smile. “Not quite. I'm trying to extricate my piano, but as you can see, I'm having some difficulties.” He finished with a wry curving of his lips.
Gibari barked a short laugh. ”Heh, not a problem, kid. I gotcha covered.” Audibly cracking his knuckles, he strode towards the wardrobe.
The older man pulled to wardrobe upright, dragged it to a back corner and propped it up against a pile of crates with an ease that left Lyude's eyes a bit wider than normal.
“That better?” Gibari stretched his arm out.
Blinking, Lyude replied, “Um, yes. Much better. You have my thanks, Gibari.” He offered him another small smile and gathered his gloves and jacket. He placed them on top of the piano.
“You gonna need anymore help?”
Lyude turned around. “No, thank you. I should be able to handle it from here.” Gibari nodded and as he turned to walk away Lyude noticed, to his brief surprise, that there was a pin on the fisherman's belt that had been engraved with the Royal Crest of Diadem.
Lyude’s brows furrowed. “Ladekhan...” he whispered. The king had given him a duplicate of the crest just before Kalas and the others had embarked for Anuenue (a lifetime ago, so it felt). A parting gift, Ladekhan had told him. And recognition of his status of “Honorary Knight of Diadem”. How had Gibari - a simple fisherman - gotten a Knight’s Crest?
Gibari’s diminishing footsteps triggered a squeak from the faulty stair. The sound snapped Lyude out of his Diadem-themed reverie and back to the Mindeer. Mindeer. Something in storage. Piano. Yes, that’s it, he thought. Piano. My piano.
Now that it was free, the piano did not present much of a problem. The keyboard was as long as Lyude’s torso and only weighed about 50 pounds - he hefted it with a minimal amount of difficulty, and, though his balance was a questionable, wove his way out of the storage room, up the stairs and onto the main deck.
He was met by a surprisingly strong breeze that whipped his scarlet hair around and caused him to waver for a moment at the top of the stairs. Regaining his footing once again, he carefully made his way across the deck to the main cabin. The door was ajar (he had left it that way) and Lyude nudged it open. He stepped into the room, kicking the door shut behind him with his foot. Lyude placed the piano in the center of the room, positioned so that anyone walking in would see him playing from the side.
He pulled a chair from one of the tables, and placed it resolutely in front of the piano. Lyude looked down at the keyboard for a moment, and allowed himself a small smile. It would feel good to play again.
He sat down in his chair and placed his hands lightly upon the keys. Right thumb on middle C, left little finger on bass C. Slowly, as though easing into it, Lyude began a warmup exercise. 1-5-4-3-2-1-5-4-3-2-1-5-4-3-2-1-5-4-3-2-1....he began to gain speed as he moved up the piano, playing the pattern in different keys signatures. There was a brief pause as his 3rd finger slipped on an F#. As he reached the end of the exercise, his fingers began a familiar pattern, and the warmup turned into his favorite piece. He couldn’t quite remember what it was called (indeed, it had been so long, he was surprised he could still play it), only that it was the first movement in a once-famous piano suite.
He lost himself in the music, in the shifting patterns and dancing fingers. His right hand wove an triplet figure melody while his left hand contrasted with an eight note harmony. The piece sped up as Lyude began to move with the music. His foot controlled the sustain petal while his fingers - and sometimes hands - moved around and between each other. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, enjoying the flow of sound and trusting his muscle memory to keep his fingers in step with their intricate dance.
As the music neared the end, Lyude imperceptibly slowed his fingers down until they ended on 3 lightly touched chords and barely pressed the final note. He brought his head forward again and opened his eyes. A spot of moisture dropped onto the back of a stationary hand. Lyude, slightly puzzled, raised his fingers to his cheeks and was surprised to find that he was crying.
“That was pretty amazing.”
Lyude jerked up to see Kalas astride a backwards chair, his elbows resting on the back. He was looking at Lyude with half-lidded eyes and a small smile, as though he had just awoken from a good dream. For a split second, Lyude was slightly shocked and pleased to see that the other man was indeed smiling, not smirking or grimacing as he was in the habit of doing. The smile softened his face and he momentarily looked his age, instead of 10 years plus.
Lyude shook his head, smiling in return. “Thank you for your kind words, Kalas,” he said, wiping his face off with the back of his hand, “though I must apologize for my current condition, I’m afraid I was quite overcome.” Kalas, his eyes now fully opened, ran a hand through his tousled blue hair.
“Nah, it’s ok. I think I might have almost - maybe - started crying myself. A little.” Kalas shifted his eyes and leaned back a little, gripping the back of the chair with his hands. “ I didn’t know you could play like that.”
Lyude dropped his eyes, somewhat embarrassed at the compliment. Very few people back in Alfard had enjoyed his playing; most - including Skeed and Vallye - just thought it a waste of time and more proof of Lyude’s disgraceful attitude.
There was an uncomfortable pause in which Lyude began playing some random exercises on the piano again. Lyude was surprised, but pleased, that Kalas was speaking to him. After discovering that their End Magnus had been stolen, the rest of the group had been angry, but determined to keep going. Kalas, though, became suspicious of everyone and everything, especially Lyude (Savyna was moody as well, but she was always like that). The other man had been avoiding him like the plague and glaring at him whenever they happened to make eyes contact. It seemed, however, that Kalas had come to his senses.
Kalas, tactful as ever, finally broke the silence. “So, are you worried?”
Lyude jumped at bit at the sudden return of a human voice, and accidentally pressed both palms down onto the piano, resulting in a jarring chord.
He turned towards Kalas again. “Worried about what?”
Kalas fixed him with a weighted gaze. “Returning to Alfard, of course. Weren’t you banished? I can’t imagine the Empire will be very happy to see you again.”
“...yes, well, I suppose not.” At least he would be able to see Almarde again. “But I shall cross that bridge when the time comes. Until then, I am more concerned about the current location of our wayward End Magnus.” Lyude finished in a bit of a rush, being more than a little agitated about breaching this subject with Kalas.
The blue-haired man grunted out a “Me too.” and lapsed into a gruff silence once again.
Lyude’s shoulder’s slumped in disappointment. He’s always so paranoid, Lyude thought. He let out a heavy sigh and brushed his fingertips across the top of the keys. Or maybe I’m just the kind of person whom it’s hard to trust. Lyude reached up and grabbed his gloves and jacket. Still seated, he shrugged into his jacket and placed his gloves in his back pocket. Maybe it’s not me, specifically, who can’t be trusted. As he did up his buttons, his fingers brushed past a familiar melted hole in the fabric. He paused, looked at Kalas, and looked back at the laser-made hole.
I suppose, he thought, that nobody ever really trusts an Imperial Soldier. Lyude took in a deep breath.
“Kalas,” Lyude whispered, and saw the other man look up at him again, “do you know when the last time I played this piano was?” Kalas cast him a dubious glance. “It was more than a year ago, before the ... incident that caused my banishment to Diadem. I played at the funeral of someone very special to me - someone whom I loved.
“Someone who tried to kill me and instead died at my hands.” At this, Kalas jerked up and stared at Lyude with wide eyes. Lyude turned back to the piano and began playing again, this time a very slow, and mournful piece with simple chords in the left hand and two simultaneous melodies in the right hand; a flowing triplet feel underneath a sharper, minimal procession of notes.
“I played this piece at the funeral. It was her favorite, for some reason; she said it relaxed her and soothed her mind. It is ironic, yes? that it was the piece I dedicated to her every time I played it, yet it became her funeral dirge.” Lyude looked at Kalas from the corner of his eye and saw him with his head down. The piece grew ever so slightly in volume until Lyude could no longer whisper over it, but instead had to talk normally.
“Or maybe it made sense that the only true peace she had in life was in listening to her death song.” Lyude let out humorless laugh. “Not as though the Empire cared, of course. They didn’t care about the death of a simple soldier - there are always more to be had. And that disregard spread to the troops. Who really cared if they lived to see tomorrow? I would have liked dying, back then. Perhaps my banishment was the best thing that could have happened to me.”
The piece came to end as the bass line moved up and ended on a dark chord. With his hands still on the keyboard, Lyude took a deep and shuddering breath, trying to fight back the lump in his throat. Tears were already streaming down his face, leaving dark spots on his jacket. “My apologies once again, Kalas. Maybe digging this piano out was not the best idea.” Kalas made no sound to indicate he had heard Lyude.
Lyude stood and replaced the chair, his head bowed. As he turned back around, he felt a hand grasp his wrist and he was spun around into a rough hug. Kalas spoke in a guilty tone.
“So you really are worried about going back.”
“Kalas...” Lyude was still somewhat surprised at Kalas’ turn in attitude.
“Let me finish.” Kalas grasped Lyude’s shoulders and held him out at arms length. “I...I’m sorry for always placing my suspicions on you. I hate the Empire with everything I am, and you’re from there, so ... I ... but you’re not really like that, are you?” Kalas hung his head briefly and let out a sigh. “Look, what I’m trying to say is, I trust you. I know...I know you didn’t take the End Magnus, and, you...” He trailed off and let go of Lyude’s shoulders.
Lyude took all this in with a slowly growing sense of contentment. “Thank you, Kalas,” he said, wiping his eyes once again. “I’m glad to be worthy of your trust.” Kalas reddened faintly and began walking towards the door. “ Don’t..don’t worry about it.”
“And, Lyude? Xella told me to come tell you we’ll be docking at Alfard really soon, so be ready for whatever happens.” Kalas walked out and closed the door it behind him.
Lyude walked back over to his piano and took a long look at it and the memories it entailed. Slowly, he pulled on his gloves and followed Kalas out the door.
