PT 7: The Star
Title: Notturno
Story Type: Project Tarot Original
Word Count: 1307
Summary: When a star falls, it must learn to get back up again.
Notes: This came from...lots of places. Stardust, the whole muse trope, and the fact that I'm currently watching An American in Paris. It's loosely based on an idea I had for a Sherlock fanfiction, but diverges quite a lot from the original premise so there are no spoilers if Pip and I ever actually write it. ETA: Sorry about the formatting glitch. I swear it was perfectly spaced when I posted it. Fucking LJ.
Once upon a time, in the sky above a carelessly spinning world, a star danced.
It is a little known fact, that light is its own kind of music, and the stars which hung in this enchanted heaven swayed and spun to their own shining melodies. This star, one particular star, shone just a little brighter, and danced just a little more, than the ones around it.
And far below, on the world beneath the singing light, someone noticed.
I'm telling you this, you understand, because you asked. Because you say I look sad. Because you want to know me, to know why. No, I'm wrong. You ask because you're scared. You fear that when you see me, you are looking into a mirror. I can't say. I can tell you how it happened, maybe even why, to some extent.
I can tell you about Alain. Sorry, even now...you understand. Old habits. He always made me smile, even before I had a mouth. I spun my light into a human body for him. I gave him my first smile. My first breath. My first word.
He watched me, dancing in the sky. He would smile up at me and shower me with wishes. He wrote songs about me, and gave them to pretty faces gathered around shiny tables in dim rooms, music pouring from his fingers. All for me.
You understand, I was helpless to him.
Oh, I kept my distance. I heard his songs from far away, from my home in the sky. I watched his smile, watched my own light reflecting in his eyes. But you know all that, I suspect.
The night I fell, oh how his fingers sang to me. I wrapped my light around myself, made myself solid, made myself flesh. You must know what I mean, that first flash of being, to know that ache of longing, to want to be touched. I wanted him to touch me.
It's all it takes. Funny, isn't it? Aeons in the sky, a life of light and song, and all it takes to plummet into the finite is a bit of desire. No, I lie. A mountain of desire. How I desired him.
I dropped practically into his arms. It was a shock, I don't mind telling you. The look on his face! Oh, there I go again. Odd how a memory can make you smile as you want to cry. But he...held me. Ran his hands...all over me. He wanted to know if I was hurt. I would gladly have suffered any injury if it meant he wouldn't stop.
He didn't believe me, at first. It took ages to convince him I was who I said I was. Finally I got him to search the sky for me, for the star he always wished on. Of course, I wasn't there. I was shining only for him, now.
He took me to his bed. It was like hearing a new kind of music for the first time. It was like inventing music. I was lost in his melody, and I wanted to stay that way.
But, you see, he would have let me. By day he would compose his songs inspired by my light, in the evenings he would play them for the beautiful people in the clubs, at night, he would play them on my body. He was proud of me, proud of himself for winning me. I have no doubt, you see, that he loved me. He loved me like he loved his piano, caressed me like the strings of his violin, kissed me as tenderly as he kissed his flute. I was his most precious instrument.
It was intoxicating.
It wasn't enough.
You'll understand, of course. When she's pulled you close enough that you can feel your heart beating against her chest. When you become aware of the power inside of your skull. When the life thrumming in your veins threatens to shake you apart. And maybe she'll hold you tight enough to rein it in. Maybe she'll run. Alain...Alain simply couldn't understand.
It was my fault, in part. When I fell, I had told him I was for him. I was sure if I gave myself to him, he would surrender himself equally in exchange. I was a fool. I had become human, Alain still saw me as his shimmering star. I wanted to live, he wanted to...stay, I suppose. To hang in our glittery eternity forever. He couldn't have known his violin strings had become the bars to cage me.
He came home one day to find me playing his piano. It was a simple melody, childish, but it was one he hadn't written and I had never heard. It was my invention. I was...so proud. I remember begging him to listen, to watch me play, to see that I could make music of my own. I had been made of music, once, the endless music of light. I had been a symphony.
He looked like I had struck him. He thought I had betrayed him. That I was trying to show him up. He didn't say, of course, but what musician wants his muse to create without him? Whoever heard of an independent muse?
I think...that was the first time I ever wept. He wouldn't look at me. I felt like I had failed him. But I hadn't. He'd failed me. Failed to see me as a real person, rather than his granted wish.
It took me longer than I care to admit to leave him, to strike out on my own. I see him occasionally, in the circuit. He's still such a wonderful musician. I still ache to feel his arms around me. But there have been others since. Men, women, anyone really who can hear my music for what it is. It came as such a surprise to find I could fall in love with someone else.
Georges loves me. He has no idea what I was. Maybe I'll tell him someday. He wants to marry me. Maybe I'll tell him if I decide to accept. He should know the truth, before he ties himself to me. It would wound me, if he should stop loving me after that. Perhaps more than losing Alain's love. But I would rather he know.
But you must see, we are not bound to them my friend. Should she prove to be like Alain, you have a choice. Life may have begun with her, but that's not where it has to end.
You're afraid. I understand. I'm sorry to have scared you. I don't regret falling, of course I don't. I don't regret loving Alain with all I was. I don't regret growing into my humanity. I don't regret finding my own music. I don't regret my work and I don't regret the walk I took this afternoon that led me to you. It was...good, to hear starsong again.
Oh, I know that look. Calm down, it's not gone forever. Close your eyes and listen with your body. There, see? You can feel it, moving inside of you, dancing in your blood. We are never truly cut off from our light. And the life you can have here, it's so much more than the heavens had to offer.
I hope she's everything you dreamt her to be. I hope she loves you for who you are and for who you become. I hope she gives herself to you as you've given yourself to her. But know that if she doesn't, there is more in this world for you.
I know you fell for her, but sooner or later, you have to pick yourself back up. Even if you have to do it alone.
-fin-
Story Type: Project Tarot Original
Word Count: 1307
Summary: When a star falls, it must learn to get back up again.
Notes: This came from...lots of places. Stardust, the whole muse trope, and the fact that I'm currently watching An American in Paris. It's loosely based on an idea I had for a Sherlock fanfiction, but diverges quite a lot from the original premise so there are no spoilers if Pip and I ever actually write it. ETA: Sorry about the formatting glitch. I swear it was perfectly spaced when I posted it. Fucking LJ.
Once upon a time, in the sky above a carelessly spinning world, a star danced.
It is a little known fact, that light is its own kind of music, and the stars which hung in this enchanted heaven swayed and spun to their own shining melodies. This star, one particular star, shone just a little brighter, and danced just a little more, than the ones around it.
And far below, on the world beneath the singing light, someone noticed.
I'm telling you this, you understand, because you asked. Because you say I look sad. Because you want to know me, to know why. No, I'm wrong. You ask because you're scared. You fear that when you see me, you are looking into a mirror. I can't say. I can tell you how it happened, maybe even why, to some extent.
I can tell you about Alain. Sorry, even now...you understand. Old habits. He always made me smile, even before I had a mouth. I spun my light into a human body for him. I gave him my first smile. My first breath. My first word.
He watched me, dancing in the sky. He would smile up at me and shower me with wishes. He wrote songs about me, and gave them to pretty faces gathered around shiny tables in dim rooms, music pouring from his fingers. All for me.
You understand, I was helpless to him.
Oh, I kept my distance. I heard his songs from far away, from my home in the sky. I watched his smile, watched my own light reflecting in his eyes. But you know all that, I suspect.
The night I fell, oh how his fingers sang to me. I wrapped my light around myself, made myself solid, made myself flesh. You must know what I mean, that first flash of being, to know that ache of longing, to want to be touched. I wanted him to touch me.
It's all it takes. Funny, isn't it? Aeons in the sky, a life of light and song, and all it takes to plummet into the finite is a bit of desire. No, I lie. A mountain of desire. How I desired him.
I dropped practically into his arms. It was a shock, I don't mind telling you. The look on his face! Oh, there I go again. Odd how a memory can make you smile as you want to cry. But he...held me. Ran his hands...all over me. He wanted to know if I was hurt. I would gladly have suffered any injury if it meant he wouldn't stop.
He didn't believe me, at first. It took ages to convince him I was who I said I was. Finally I got him to search the sky for me, for the star he always wished on. Of course, I wasn't there. I was shining only for him, now.
He took me to his bed. It was like hearing a new kind of music for the first time. It was like inventing music. I was lost in his melody, and I wanted to stay that way.
But, you see, he would have let me. By day he would compose his songs inspired by my light, in the evenings he would play them for the beautiful people in the clubs, at night, he would play them on my body. He was proud of me, proud of himself for winning me. I have no doubt, you see, that he loved me. He loved me like he loved his piano, caressed me like the strings of his violin, kissed me as tenderly as he kissed his flute. I was his most precious instrument.
It was intoxicating.
It wasn't enough.
You'll understand, of course. When she's pulled you close enough that you can feel your heart beating against her chest. When you become aware of the power inside of your skull. When the life thrumming in your veins threatens to shake you apart. And maybe she'll hold you tight enough to rein it in. Maybe she'll run. Alain...Alain simply couldn't understand.
It was my fault, in part. When I fell, I had told him I was for him. I was sure if I gave myself to him, he would surrender himself equally in exchange. I was a fool. I had become human, Alain still saw me as his shimmering star. I wanted to live, he wanted to...stay, I suppose. To hang in our glittery eternity forever. He couldn't have known his violin strings had become the bars to cage me.
He came home one day to find me playing his piano. It was a simple melody, childish, but it was one he hadn't written and I had never heard. It was my invention. I was...so proud. I remember begging him to listen, to watch me play, to see that I could make music of my own. I had been made of music, once, the endless music of light. I had been a symphony.
He looked like I had struck him. He thought I had betrayed him. That I was trying to show him up. He didn't say, of course, but what musician wants his muse to create without him? Whoever heard of an independent muse?
I think...that was the first time I ever wept. He wouldn't look at me. I felt like I had failed him. But I hadn't. He'd failed me. Failed to see me as a real person, rather than his granted wish.
It took me longer than I care to admit to leave him, to strike out on my own. I see him occasionally, in the circuit. He's still such a wonderful musician. I still ache to feel his arms around me. But there have been others since. Men, women, anyone really who can hear my music for what it is. It came as such a surprise to find I could fall in love with someone else.
Georges loves me. He has no idea what I was. Maybe I'll tell him someday. He wants to marry me. Maybe I'll tell him if I decide to accept. He should know the truth, before he ties himself to me. It would wound me, if he should stop loving me after that. Perhaps more than losing Alain's love. But I would rather he know.
But you must see, we are not bound to them my friend. Should she prove to be like Alain, you have a choice. Life may have begun with her, but that's not where it has to end.
You're afraid. I understand. I'm sorry to have scared you. I don't regret falling, of course I don't. I don't regret loving Alain with all I was. I don't regret growing into my humanity. I don't regret finding my own music. I don't regret my work and I don't regret the walk I took this afternoon that led me to you. It was...good, to hear starsong again.
Oh, I know that look. Calm down, it's not gone forever. Close your eyes and listen with your body. There, see? You can feel it, moving inside of you, dancing in your blood. We are never truly cut off from our light. And the life you can have here, it's so much more than the heavens had to offer.
I hope she's everything you dreamt her to be. I hope she loves you for who you are and for who you become. I hope she gives herself to you as you've given yourself to her. But know that if she doesn't, there is more in this world for you.
I know you fell for her, but sooner or later, you have to pick yourself back up. Even if you have to do it alone.
-fin-