Flowing music [4/7]
anonymous
January 4 2010, 16:18:28 UTC
“This is an elegy” he murmured, blinking and standing back.
Italy eeped and backtracked, having not noticed the Prussian’s presence behind him, and even Austria turned into a flushed scared mass. “Ve~ it’s Prussia~”
“Ita!” hugging the Italian with one arm, and ruffling Austria’s hair with his other, careful to pull as painfully as possible Mariazell as he did so, Prussia turned his eyes to the sheets again. “You’re composing. Unusual”.
“Ah… sì…” Italy fidgeted, scratching his chin. “It’s just…”
“Mourning” Prussia, although it didn’t show, had once been keen to playing instruments. He’d long since stopped, ever since the only person he’d played for had died -humans tended to do that, but he also kept forgetting about it- but his fingers were itching now.
How to explain the sudden desire to pick up his flute and play again?
How to make his own mind understand why the notes in his brain had twisted his heart so much, only by guessing how they would sound?
This was, mostly, an elegy. It was slow and fast, its cadence residing fully on the harmony between violin and piano. It was about dread and sadness, and pain and loss.
And yet…
And yet, it was beautiful. There was a soft tune of hope barely touched, and it was exactly what he was attracted to.
“Sì” Italy repeated. He looked to the side, hand twitching. “I’ll… I’ll be going now, Austria… since your guest has arrived, besides brother might wonder where I went, ve~”
It was obvious he didn’t like to be seen that way, still not recovered from having found the music and getting through the effort of completing something so old and yet so raw.
Prussia watched Austria’s eyes cloud over, and felt the need to intervene.
“Play it for me” he ordered.
As the other two stared at him in surprise, he hardened his eyes and stood straighter up. “I mean it” he stated, grumpily. “Play what you’ve got. For me. The awesome me wants to… listen”.
Showing a confused look Austria was about to protest -Prussia was asking for something painful, he wouldn’t allow him to- but a nod from Italy made him desist. Slowly, he moved towards the giant armoire in the corner and took out an old violin. It was there ever since Mozart, but Austria always cleaned it diligently, not allowing a grain of dirt to touch its surface.
Italy held it up like a treasure, fingers shifting expertly, tuning it for the first time in over a century, brushing its outline with care.
Then, the two played.
It was strange -they had been twisting and correcting a single tune for more than a hour, and it was only the piano rendition, as Italy hadn’t with him the original notes on the violin, and yet they knew exactly how to duet.
The music vibrated in the room with a violence and a depth that was almost scary -the slow, tentative tune already trembling under the strength of their play, music coming together, born like water falling from the sky.
It was devastating. It was deep. It was…
“Imperfect” Prussia moved closer to the piano as soon as the two finished, notes fading into the silence of an uncompleted melody. “It lacks something”.
At the shocked gaze he received from Austria, he huffed out, rolling his eyes. Granted Austria wouldn’t accept a critique. Especially if coming from him.
But of course Prussia had felt his insides twist painfully with just a small piece. Of course the whole conundrum of sounds would make him restless, his fingers twitching in a way nothing else had since… forever.
Of course he felt the desire to play now.
“It lacks a third sound” he mediated, looking straight into Italy’s eyes for confirmation.
This was Italy’s song, and Prussia didn’t want to intrude in something as private as that. In each note he’d felt the longing the Italian had felt for the person he’d lost. It was something they had in common. Something they had twice in common.
Flowing music [5/7]
anonymous
January 4 2010, 16:19:31 UTC
He’d heard how Austria’s own notes had wrapped around that, offering a comfort and adding his own painful experiences, his own guilty loss.
Prussia, for the first time, felt he could actually be of use. He could actually join in something for which he could offer his own support. His own ideas, his own tune.
A third option for the same melody, which was already thrumming in his heart, demanding him to write it down, to tie it up with Italy and Austria’s parts… to close it up.
Italy wouldn’t lie. If he didn’t want Prussia to interfere, he would shake his head, in his usual way, lips twitching downwards, pressing his hand on the Prussian’s chest, and say -no. Sorry, but it won’t work.
Prussia wanted to be part of that.
Ever since the very first note, the sad, twirling sound had caught him up.
“Flauto” Italy murmured, blinking in surprise.
Prussia nodded, stony.
Austria brushed one finger over the music sheets.
“A flute melody” he took a shaky breath, looking over to Italy. “Would it…?”
“Yes”.
Prussia smiled ruefully at the two; gratefully, he joined in, as if he’d always been part of their working group.
…………………………
The old pendulum clock belonging to Austria swayed and sang twelve times, interrupting Italy’s rant about whether using a glissando part of the song would be good or not.
Brown eyes looked up at it, widening -it was already midnight?
“I need to go back home now, brother will be worried” stretching, Italy moved away from the piano, over which the three of them had been leaning for the last few hours.
At his words both Austria and Prussia, who had been working just as hard over the notes, stopped; standing up, they realised how cramped they felt, and just how close their mutual writing had brought them over the last few hours -hands brushing and touching each other, pens tracing and erasing notes for countless times.
Embarrassed, they looked down at the piano, the sheet papers covered in minute scribbling of three different styles.
“We shall continue this tomorrow” albeit using a matter-of-fact tone, Austria’s was more of a question than a statement.
After all, that something they were sharing… it felt strange to realise they’d have to stop.
Italy turned towards him, and in a clear show of gratitude, he grabbed Austria’s hands, holding them tightly in his own; the touch of those warm, now firm hands made Austria smile, a light flush on his cheeks.
Then Italy turned towards Prussia, who had been fidgeting, and hugged him close, expressing for him the same content appreciation.
“I’ll walk you home, Ita” hiding his flush under a brash laughter, Prussia turned towards the window and jumped out, clearly ignoring that front doors were meant to be used.
“You stupid bothersome idiot” Austria twitched, moving closer to the window and glancing outside, grabbing Italy’s arm to prevent him from following. “You! Use the door!”
“Yessir” Italy smiled. “Say, Austria, see you tomorrow?”
“That aristocratic idiot wouldn’t move down from his pedestal enough to join us, anyway” Prussia sneered, although his tone was more teasing than insulting.
Jutting his chin up, Austria turned around and exited the room, quickly followed by a bouncing Italy, cheerful mood returned. “Put something on, it’s going to be cold outside at this hour” was the last thing the East German nation heard before moving towards the front door as well, snickering.
They walked in silence, first Italy, hands clasped behind his back, then Austria and lastly Prussia, who was keeping his gaze pointed up towards the sky; each one of them was lost in private thoughts, but the presence of the other two was enough to keep them comfortable.
“It’s a beautiful night, ve~”
Austria hummed in reply, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry for upsetting you before, Italy” he stated honestly, glancing back at Prussia, “and adding the flute did bring something I had not noticed it was lacking” he added, quietly.
Flowing music [6/7]
anonymous
January 4 2010, 16:20:40 UTC
Prussia’s lips twitched in a satisfied smirk, and Italy turned towards them, walking backwards just so he could smile at them.
“Yeah~ playing in company is better than playing alone~” he blinked his eyes open for a moment, then licked his lips. “And it’s not mourning anymore, if we’re all working towards remembering”.
Surprised at the sudden insight, Austria and Prussia looked at each other and let out a hesitant smile.
If there was something able to bring them all closer together, despite their differences and completely opposite attitudes, well. That was music.
The stars were quite bright that night, as the three of them walked towards Italy’s house.
…………………………
“I think we’re done”.
Prussia tapped down on the last string of notes with a frown, rereading them and moving to control the piano and violin sheets, nodding to himself. “Ita is right… we’ve completed it”.
Falling into an uneasy silence, the three stopped and stared down at the messy pile of papers scattered everywhere on Austria’s table.
It took them three days -three days of meeting from morning to evening, with pauses only to eat (“I promise I won’t cook pasta today, but keep your German wurst away from me, Prussia~”) or rest a bit in Austria’s garden, tending to his plants.
Hungary and Germany had popped up, but completely ignored due to the music coming first, they had settled by shaking their heads with a smile and letting the three work -Germany had been particularly satisfied, as Italy was finally doing some hard work, even if it was just about music and not something more physical, and Hungary had inwardly praised Prussia’s dedication, knowing exactly what those three were working on.
And they had finally completed the song.
“Let’s… play it, now, sì?”
Quietly, almost reverently, considering all their time spent on that project, Prussia brought out his old flute (the same one he’d played, hundred years before, to his Old Fritz), Austria cracked his knuckles on his piano, and Italy held up his own violin this time, one of the few belonging to his own manufacturers.
Then, they started playing.
The violin let out a lament, a vibrato that started softly from nothingness and grew in tone and power, a single note that suddenly softened again, shattering and twisting and multiplying, slowing coming to a moderate speed as first the piano, one key at a time, then the flute, from a lower tone, joined in.
Higher notes reached through the flute, sweeping through the room, bringing strange flickers of a happier, brighter melody as both the piano and the violin shifted low, one holding and bringing notes together, offering them to the music, one barely shifting through them, never holding one for too long…
It was not an elegy anymore -nor it was a requiem…
It was simply music to remember.
As it had started, it ended, gently dropping note after note, the flute ending softly in a low Do, the piano following swiftly, and the violin let out a last sweet, slow melody, finally falling into silence, the notes dying away.
Italy opened his eyes, his heart thumping in his chest, and wiped away the tears threatening to fall.
It was just…
“Perfect” Austria murmured, shoulders relaxing all of sudden, hands clenching around the borders of the piano. “That was it”.
Prussia closed his eyes, his mind still touching the notes, almost reverently, and nodded. He wanted to say something about how he’d guessed it would be so, given he’d been working on it… but he remained silent.
Lowering his violin in its case, Italy stepped backwards, hesitating as Austria stood up, stretching. Now that everything was finished, he felt sad -he’d liked the kind of intimacy that had grown between the three of them.
Besides, he wanted to… wanted…
Prussia snorted at the clear indecision he could see in the Italian’s brown eyes, and moving behind him, he pushed Italy against Austria’s chest, catching both in surprise.
Flowing music [7/7]
anonymous
January 4 2010, 16:23:06 UTC
Flushing, Austria glared at the albino, only to turn even redder when Italy tightened his grip around his midsection, holding him close in a tentative hug.
Then Prussia was hugging them both, his long arms wound around their shoulders, smiling proudly, and it didn’t even feel that bad; and when Austria leaned down to kiss Italy’s forehead, it wasn’t even that disturbing when the Italian looked up, making their lips brush instead.
As the coy bastard he was, Prussia held their heads still; Austria grunted, feeling Italy’s soft lips against his, but didn’t immediately shift away when the pressure against his head lessened, liking the touch, and it took them a few instants to finally part.
“Ah… I-”
Both flushed and embarrassed, and still unable to move aside due to Prussia’s grip on them, Austria and Italy looked at each other, cheeks set aflame.
“Ve~”
And Italy was of course the one who didn’t really care, as he leaned upwards and twisting his neck, he joined lips with Prussia.
The albino wasn’t as prude as Austria had been, and his lips opened up to softly suck on Italy’s, causing him to moan softly in the kiss, hands tightening their hold around Austria’s waist.
Well, Austria thought as Prussia leaned down to kiss him, eyes glinting in satisfaction, music did bring them closer. Maybe just… a little bit closer than he had anticipated.
“… Prussia, stop groping me”.
And that was still good, in the end. Probably.
…………………………
This is it. I know it’s pretty simple and short, but that’s what I came up instead of writing a South/North pr0n, so… ahem, I hope OP will like. ^^
Glossary: Adagio: a tempo having a slow movement; restful at ease. Canon: A musical form where the melody or tune is imitated by individual parts at regular intervals. The individual parts may enter at different measures and pitches. The tune may also be played at different speeds, backwards, or inverted. Elegy: An instrumental lament with praise for the dead. Glissando: Sliding between two notes. Requiem: A dirge, hymn, or musical service for the repose of the dead. Sì (Italian) - yes. Fratello Francia (Italian) - Brother France Flauto (italian) - Flute.
Muzio Clementi and Schumann are two piano composers, quite famous and truly astounding ones at that. Together with Chopin, I thought Austria would like playing them. As for Prussia being a flutist, a famous Prussian king was also a great flutist, according to some researches I did.
Re: Flowing music [7/7]
anonymous
January 6 2010, 00:56:00 UTC
unfortunately no, that person wasn't me. i've written many other pairings with ita, but not that one. i wish i was, it was exactly what i had wanted to write one day XDDD don't worry about asking!
If you're talking about a different one...link me please...I've somehow missed it and that thought makes me sad..
WriterAnon if you still want to do a fill for that request go right ahead! I love seeing multiple fills on stuff especially for a pairing as rare as Austria/Italy. Mine failed on the actually being shippy part of the prompt anyway...
Italy eeped and backtracked, having not noticed the Prussian’s presence behind him, and even Austria turned into a flushed scared mass. “Ve~ it’s Prussia~”
“Ita!” hugging the Italian with one arm, and ruffling Austria’s hair with his other, careful to pull as painfully as possible Mariazell as he did so, Prussia turned his eyes to the sheets again. “You’re composing. Unusual”.
“Ah… sì…” Italy fidgeted, scratching his chin. “It’s just…”
“Mourning” Prussia, although it didn’t show, had once been keen to playing instruments. He’d long since stopped, ever since the only person he’d played for had died -humans tended to do that, but he also kept forgetting about it- but his fingers were itching now.
How to explain the sudden desire to pick up his flute and play again?
How to make his own mind understand why the notes in his brain had twisted his heart so much, only by guessing how they would sound?
This was, mostly, an elegy. It was slow and fast, its cadence residing fully on the harmony between violin and piano. It was about dread and sadness, and pain and loss.
And yet…
And yet, it was beautiful. There was a soft tune of hope barely touched, and it was exactly what he was attracted to.
“Sì” Italy repeated. He looked to the side, hand twitching. “I’ll… I’ll be going now, Austria… since your guest has arrived, besides brother might wonder where I went, ve~”
It was obvious he didn’t like to be seen that way, still not recovered from having found the music and getting through the effort of completing something so old and yet so raw.
Prussia watched Austria’s eyes cloud over, and felt the need to intervene.
“Play it for me” he ordered.
As the other two stared at him in surprise, he hardened his eyes and stood straighter up. “I mean it” he stated, grumpily. “Play what you’ve got. For me. The awesome me wants to… listen”.
Showing a confused look Austria was about to protest -Prussia was asking for something painful, he wouldn’t allow him to- but a nod from Italy made him desist. Slowly, he moved towards the giant armoire in the corner and took out an old violin. It was there ever since Mozart, but Austria always cleaned it diligently, not allowing a grain of dirt to touch its surface.
Italy held it up like a treasure, fingers shifting expertly, tuning it for the first time in over a century, brushing its outline with care.
Then, the two played.
It was strange -they had been twisting and correcting a single tune for more than a hour, and it was only the piano rendition, as Italy hadn’t with him the original notes on the violin, and yet they knew exactly how to duet.
The music vibrated in the room with a violence and a depth that was almost scary -the slow, tentative tune already trembling under the strength of their play, music coming together, born like water falling from the sky.
It was devastating. It was deep. It was…
“Imperfect” Prussia moved closer to the piano as soon as the two finished, notes fading into the silence of an uncompleted melody. “It lacks something”.
At the shocked gaze he received from Austria, he huffed out, rolling his eyes. Granted Austria wouldn’t accept a critique. Especially if coming from him.
But of course Prussia had felt his insides twist painfully with just a small piece. Of course the whole conundrum of sounds would make him restless, his fingers twitching in a way nothing else had since… forever.
Of course he felt the desire to play now.
“It lacks a third sound” he mediated, looking straight into Italy’s eyes for confirmation.
This was Italy’s song, and Prussia didn’t want to intrude in something as private as that. In each note he’d felt the longing the Italian had felt for the person he’d lost. It was something they had in common. Something they had twice in common.
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Prussia, for the first time, felt he could actually be of use. He could actually join in something for which he could offer his own support. His own ideas, his own tune.
A third option for the same melody, which was already thrumming in his heart, demanding him to write it down, to tie it up with Italy and Austria’s parts… to close it up.
Italy wouldn’t lie. If he didn’t want Prussia to interfere, he would shake his head, in his usual way, lips twitching downwards, pressing his hand on the Prussian’s chest, and say -no. Sorry, but it won’t work.
Prussia wanted to be part of that.
Ever since the very first note, the sad, twirling sound had caught him up.
“Flauto” Italy murmured, blinking in surprise.
Prussia nodded, stony.
Austria brushed one finger over the music sheets.
“A flute melody” he took a shaky breath, looking over to Italy. “Would it…?”
“Yes”.
Prussia smiled ruefully at the two; gratefully, he joined in, as if he’d always been part of their working group.
…………………………
The old pendulum clock belonging to Austria swayed and sang twelve times, interrupting Italy’s rant about whether using a glissando part of the song would be good or not.
Brown eyes looked up at it, widening -it was already midnight?
“I need to go back home now, brother will be worried” stretching, Italy moved away from the piano, over which the three of them had been leaning for the last few hours.
At his words both Austria and Prussia, who had been working just as hard over the notes, stopped; standing up, they realised how cramped they felt, and just how close their mutual writing had brought them over the last few hours -hands brushing and touching each other, pens tracing and erasing notes for countless times.
Embarrassed, they looked down at the piano, the sheet papers covered in minute scribbling of three different styles.
“We shall continue this tomorrow” albeit using a matter-of-fact tone, Austria’s was more of a question than a statement.
After all, that something they were sharing… it felt strange to realise they’d have to stop.
Italy turned towards him, and in a clear show of gratitude, he grabbed Austria’s hands, holding them tightly in his own; the touch of those warm, now firm hands made Austria smile, a light flush on his cheeks.
Then Italy turned towards Prussia, who had been fidgeting, and hugged him close, expressing for him the same content appreciation.
“I’ll walk you home, Ita” hiding his flush under a brash laughter, Prussia turned towards the window and jumped out, clearly ignoring that front doors were meant to be used.
“You stupid bothersome idiot” Austria twitched, moving closer to the window and glancing outside, grabbing Italy’s arm to prevent him from following. “You! Use the door!”
“Yessir” Italy smiled. “Say, Austria, see you tomorrow?”
“That aristocratic idiot wouldn’t move down from his pedestal enough to join us, anyway” Prussia sneered, although his tone was more teasing than insulting.
Jutting his chin up, Austria turned around and exited the room, quickly followed by a bouncing Italy, cheerful mood returned. “Put something on, it’s going to be cold outside at this hour” was the last thing the East German nation heard before moving towards the front door as well, snickering.
They walked in silence, first Italy, hands clasped behind his back, then Austria and lastly Prussia, who was keeping his gaze pointed up towards the sky; each one of them was lost in private thoughts, but the presence of the other two was enough to keep them comfortable.
“It’s a beautiful night, ve~”
Austria hummed in reply, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry for upsetting you before, Italy” he stated honestly, glancing back at Prussia, “and adding the flute did bring something I had not noticed it was lacking” he added, quietly.
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“Yeah~ playing in company is better than playing alone~” he blinked his eyes open for a moment, then licked his lips. “And it’s not mourning anymore, if we’re all working towards remembering”.
Surprised at the sudden insight, Austria and Prussia looked at each other and let out a hesitant smile.
If there was something able to bring them all closer together, despite their differences and completely opposite attitudes, well. That was music.
The stars were quite bright that night, as the three of them walked towards Italy’s house.
…………………………
“I think we’re done”.
Prussia tapped down on the last string of notes with a frown, rereading them and moving to control the piano and violin sheets, nodding to himself. “Ita is right… we’ve completed it”.
Falling into an uneasy silence, the three stopped and stared down at the messy pile of papers scattered everywhere on Austria’s table.
It took them three days -three days of meeting from morning to evening, with pauses only to eat (“I promise I won’t cook pasta today, but keep your German wurst away from me, Prussia~”) or rest a bit in Austria’s garden, tending to his plants.
Hungary and Germany had popped up, but completely ignored due to the music coming first, they had settled by shaking their heads with a smile and letting the three work -Germany had been particularly satisfied, as Italy was finally doing some hard work, even if it was just about music and not something more physical, and Hungary had inwardly praised Prussia’s dedication, knowing exactly what those three were working on.
And they had finally completed the song.
“Let’s… play it, now, sì?”
Quietly, almost reverently, considering all their time spent on that project, Prussia brought out his old flute (the same one he’d played, hundred years before, to his Old Fritz), Austria cracked his knuckles on his piano, and Italy held up his own violin this time, one of the few belonging to his own manufacturers.
Then, they started playing.
The violin let out a lament, a vibrato that started softly from nothingness and grew in tone and power, a single note that suddenly softened again, shattering and twisting and multiplying, slowing coming to a moderate speed as first the piano, one key at a time, then the flute, from a lower tone, joined in.
Higher notes reached through the flute, sweeping through the room, bringing strange flickers of a happier, brighter melody as both the piano and the violin shifted low, one holding and bringing notes together, offering them to the music, one barely shifting through them, never holding one for too long…
It was not an elegy anymore -nor it was a requiem…
It was simply music to remember.
As it had started, it ended, gently dropping note after note, the flute ending softly in a low Do, the piano following swiftly, and the violin let out a last sweet, slow melody, finally falling into silence, the notes dying away.
Italy opened his eyes, his heart thumping in his chest, and wiped away the tears threatening to fall.
It was just…
“Perfect” Austria murmured, shoulders relaxing all of sudden, hands clenching around the borders of the piano. “That was it”.
Prussia closed his eyes, his mind still touching the notes, almost reverently, and nodded. He wanted to say something about how he’d guessed it would be so, given he’d been working on it… but he remained silent.
Lowering his violin in its case, Italy stepped backwards, hesitating as Austria stood up, stretching. Now that everything was finished, he felt sad -he’d liked the kind of intimacy that had grown between the three of them.
Besides, he wanted to… wanted…
Prussia snorted at the clear indecision he could see in the Italian’s brown eyes, and moving behind him, he pushed Italy against Austria’s chest, catching both in surprise.
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Then Prussia was hugging them both, his long arms wound around their shoulders, smiling proudly, and it didn’t even feel that bad; and when Austria leaned down to kiss Italy’s forehead, it wasn’t even that disturbing when the Italian looked up, making their lips brush instead.
As the coy bastard he was, Prussia held their heads still; Austria grunted, feeling Italy’s soft lips against his, but didn’t immediately shift away when the pressure against his head lessened, liking the touch, and it took them a few instants to finally part.
“Ah… I-”
Both flushed and embarrassed, and still unable to move aside due to Prussia’s grip on them, Austria and Italy looked at each other, cheeks set aflame.
“Ve~”
And Italy was of course the one who didn’t really care, as he leaned upwards and twisting his neck, he joined lips with Prussia.
The albino wasn’t as prude as Austria had been, and his lips opened up to softly suck on Italy’s, causing him to moan softly in the kiss, hands tightening their hold around Austria’s waist.
Well, Austria thought as Prussia leaned down to kiss him, eyes glinting in satisfaction, music did bring them closer. Maybe just… a little bit closer than he had anticipated.
“… Prussia, stop groping me”.
And that was still good, in the end. Probably.
…………………………
This is it. I know it’s pretty simple and short, but that’s what I came up instead of writing a South/North pr0n, so… ahem, I hope OP will like. ^^
Glossary:
Adagio: a tempo having a slow movement; restful at ease.
Canon: A musical form where the melody or tune is imitated by individual parts at regular intervals. The individual parts may enter at different measures and pitches. The tune may also be played at different speeds, backwards, or inverted.
Elegy: An instrumental lament with praise for the dead.
Glissando: Sliding between two notes.
Requiem: A dirge, hymn, or musical service for the repose of the dead.
Sì (Italian) - yes.
Fratello Francia (Italian) - Brother France
Flauto (italian) - Flute.
Muzio Clementi and Schumann are two piano composers, quite famous and truly astounding ones at that. Together with Chopin, I thought Austria would like playing them.
As for Prussia being a flutist, a famous Prussian king was also a great flutist, according to some researches I did.
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Thank you so much!
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Not to de-anon you, but did you wrote another really sweet Austria/Italy with music? If I'm wrong then I'm sorry.
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thanks for liking, though :)
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http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/11813.html?thread=25849125#t25849125
That one was mine actually... :-)
If you're talking about a different one...link me please...I've somehow missed it and that thought makes me sad..
WriterAnon if you still want to do a fill for that request go right ahead! I love seeing multiple fills on stuff especially for a pairing as rare as Austria/Italy. Mine failed on the actually being shippy part of the prompt anyway...
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I will need another plot for that one XDD
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