Shadow Song
Chapter 1: Broken Strings (Of A Shattered Heart)
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Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendour. Grasp it; sense it - tremulous and tender
Phantom
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Long shadows enveloped the marble room as evening swept in, bathing the single occupant in darkness. A violin balanced gently upon an ageless shoulder the bow string dancing slowly across the string in perhaps what might have been called aimless patterns across the instrument. Pale fingers following in time to some unheard melody. Music in all its form was the one joy of his life. The one thing in his world that could be called beautiful or soft. Crimson eyes closed as if only for that one moment the withered heart that lay still beneath his chest could feel again.
A futile battle against the depth of his boredom, a tempory escape from the tedium of his existence. Only spot of interest was the human now residing in the dungeon. Isabella Swan interested him. Hearing her speak in the throne room had awoken feelings that had lay dormant for years beyond count. There was a subtle music in her voice, the patterns of her breathing the steady beat of her heart that caught his attention. She was living music. Brought to them by the evils of knowledge, the seductions of a young Cullen vampire. Driven to desperation when she was thought dead he had come to them and pleaded for his own demise...
Looking upon the stricken figure the bloodlust that always slept just beneath his skin burst forth in a violent fit of silent rage, directed at Edward. He reeked of mortality. Affection, Weakness! Yet, a lingering scent had struck his nose like a siren’s call, the floral bouquet weaving a heart song into the fabric of his broken still heart. Distracting the royal for the first time since the death of his companion of centuries had been slain by those contemptable vermin named werewolf. Thus without more than a dry comment and a wave of a pale hand the young immortal was sent on his way. Leaving the kings to separate but no less intriguing thoughts.
Then he, Edward, tempted fate even further by coming within a hairsbreadth of exposing the entire race, such attempts had to be put an end to He was after all only saved from his fate by the intervention of a human girl. Disgraceful! Death was his preference but it was Marcus that had overruled him. Stating in his fashion there was more at play here then met the eyes; they should wait and watch least a grave error be committed. So in the dungeons the too ill-fated lovers stayed for the time being, while the brothers decided their fate.
"Such a lonely melody brother, are your musings so distasteful?"
Without knocking Aro had entered, and now stood within inches of him gazing down at his reclining figure with a calculating expression. Taking in the limp posture and the vacant expression. Even the lack luster sheen of golden white hair usually so well-tended was now left carelessly half brushed. Never once in his years had either brother seen the brutal enforcer so, unkept.
"Boredom is distasteful brother; there are no more enemies to fight no more wars to win or music that tempts my heart."
Gleefully Aro hummed a melody and made a mental note to confer with Marcus the moment he left the room. All the strings were there it was the most enthralling possibility.
"Oh I think there is brother, though it’s not a melody written on a page, but a living vessel that had caught your interest."
The bow at last fell silent as he stilled the ceaseless flow of melody. The golden head tilted to meet his brother’s eye and pale white fists clenched as they rested on the solid wooden chair. Happily he had taken care that the instatement was spared a laspe of judgement that could have destroyed it.. Resting it carefully in his lap Aro merely ran a finger across the strings in a dreadful careless was producing something akin to a talon grinding on a chalk board.
“The girl, she could be a great asset to us.”
Least he be tempted to strike, Caius uttered a snarl of warning which, while not well received had its effect, Aro stopped. This foul treatment of such a valued peice of his life sent the blond into a comfortable familiar fit of pique
“Perhaps brother, but you know her fate, be bitten for the change or die, the price of the knowledge she carries, every moment she breaths she's a liability, the linchpin to our very survival! “
“Perhaps brother, always so eager for justice, yet, there may yet be another option”
Two pairs of crimson eyes locked for an interminable moment and a single thought seemed to pass from one to the other in it. The response to the silent idea was a comment so dry one would surely of having discussed the weather or crops with the amount of emotions portrayed instead of a very important event in the vampire calendar that only happened once a century at the grandest home of their immortal kin. The Fantasima. Scheduled to begin in only a few short week within the very walls of this castle.
“Surely you jest. Brother, she may have no voice, what remarks would indeed be flowing in that being the case”
“Not in the least, it is a gamble worthy of your talents Caius, you know the play by heart; why not take the title role?”
Ivory fingers steepled in thought, golden brows raised in contemplation, the crackling of the fire, made for comfort of routine then for the warmth covered the lengthy silent. At last as the clock struck a new hour he moved at last, vanity and interest overruling his disinterest with the life he led.
“Very well brother, gather the family and inform them of the development, Isabella Swan, should she possess any voice at all shall be my Christine, I will have no one else!”
Aro clapped his pale hands in childlike glee and was gone heedless of the double edged warning in the voice of his brother. The news spreading like wildfire about the castle, for the first time since the death of his companion. Caius Volturi would sing again! The selection for that year was well suited for vampiric taste. A touch of darkness a hint of passion and plenty of death. For the first time in the castle history there would be a play a ball and a gathering all in one evening. Auditions would be held in the following days, bringing the most talent of their world to life once more.
The Phantom of the Opera, was the centerpiece of the evening, the only question remained was.
Could Isabella Swan carry a tune? For her sake Aro hoped so,
Her very life depended on it.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendour. Grasp it; sense it - tremulous and tender
Phantom
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Long shadows enveloped the marble room as evening swept in, bathing the single occupant in darkness. A violin balanced gently upon an ageless shoulder the bow string dancing slowly across the string in perhaps what might have been called aimless patterns across the instrument. Pale fingers following in time to some unheard melody. Music in all its form was the one joy of his life. The one thing in his world that could be called beautiful or soft. Crimson eyes closed as if only for that one moment the withered heart that lay still beneath his chest could feel again.
A futile battle against the depth of his boredom, a tempory escape from the tedium of his existence. Only spot of interest was the human now residing in the dungeon. Isabella Swan interested him. Hearing her speak in the throne room had awoken feelings that had lay dormant for years beyond count. There was a subtle music in her voice, the patterns of her breathing the steady beat of her heart that caught his attention. She was living music. Brought to them by the evils of knowledge, the seductions of a young Cullen vampire. Driven to desperation when she was thought dead he had come to them and pleaded for his own demise...
Looking upon the stricken figure the bloodlust that always slept just beneath his skin burst forth in a violent fit of silent rage, directed at Edward. He reeked of mortality. Affection, Weakness! Yet, a lingering scent had struck his nose like a siren’s call, the floral bouquet weaving a heart song into the fabric of his broken still heart. Distracting the royal for the first time since the death of his companion of centuries had been slain by those contemptable vermin named werewolf. Thus without more than a dry comment and a wave of a pale hand the young immortal was sent on his way. Leaving the kings to separate but no less intriguing thoughts.
Then he, Edward, tempted fate even further by coming within a hairsbreadth of exposing the entire race, such attempts had to be put an end to He was after all only saved from his fate by the intervention of a human girl. Disgraceful! Death was his preference but it was Marcus that had overruled him. Stating in his fashion there was more at play here then met the eyes; they should wait and watch least a grave error be committed. So in the dungeons the too ill-fated lovers stayed for the time being, while the brothers decided their fate.
"Such a lonely melody brother, are your musings so distasteful?"
Without knocking Aro had entered, and now stood within inches of him gazing down at his reclining figure with a calculating expression. Taking in the limp posture and the vacant expression. Even the lack luster sheen of golden white hair usually so well-tended was now left carelessly half brushed. Never once in his years had either brother seen the brutal enforcer so, unkept.
"Boredom is distasteful brother; there are no more enemies to fight no more wars to win or music that tempts my heart."
Gleefully Aro hummed a melody and made a mental note to confer with Marcus the moment he left the room. All the strings were there it was the most enthralling possibility.
"Oh I think there is brother, though it’s not a melody written on a page, but a living vessel that had caught your interest."
The bow at last fell silent as he stilled the ceaseless flow of melody. The golden head tilted to meet his brother’s eye and pale white fists clenched as they rested on the solid wooden chair. Happily he had taken care that the instatement was spared a laspe of judgement that could have destroyed it.. Resting it carefully in his lap Aro merely ran a finger across the strings in a dreadful careless was producing something akin to a talon grinding on a chalk board.
“The girl, she could be a great asset to us.”
Least he be tempted to strike, Caius uttered a snarl of warning which, while not well received had its effect, Aro stopped. This foul treatment of such a valued peice of his life sent the blond into a comfortable familiar fit of pique
“Perhaps brother, but you know her fate, be bitten for the change or die, the price of the knowledge she carries, every moment she breaths she's a liability, the linchpin to our very survival! “
“Perhaps brother, always so eager for justice, yet, there may yet be another option”
Two pairs of crimson eyes locked for an interminable moment and a single thought seemed to pass from one to the other in it. The response to the silent idea was a comment so dry one would surely of having discussed the weather or crops with the amount of emotions portrayed instead of a very important event in the vampire calendar that only happened once a century at the grandest home of their immortal kin. The Fantasima. Scheduled to begin in only a few short week within the very walls of this castle.
“Surely you jest. Brother, she may have no voice, what remarks would indeed be flowing in that being the case”
“Not in the least, it is a gamble worthy of your talents Caius, you know the play by heart; why not take the title role?”
Ivory fingers steepled in thought, golden brows raised in contemplation, the crackling of the fire, made for comfort of routine then for the warmth covered the lengthy silent. At last as the clock struck a new hour he moved at last, vanity and interest overruling his disinterest with the life he led.
“Very well brother, gather the family and inform them of the development, Isabella Swan, should she possess any voice at all shall be my Christine, I will have no one else!”
Aro clapped his pale hands in childlike glee and was gone heedless of the double edged warning in the voice of his brother. The news spreading like wildfire about the castle, for the first time since the death of his companion. Caius Volturi would sing again! The selection for that year was well suited for vampiric taste. A touch of darkness a hint of passion and plenty of death. For the first time in the castle history there would be a play a ball and a gathering all in one evening. Auditions would be held in the following days, bringing the most talent of their world to life once more.
The Phantom of the Opera, was the centerpiece of the evening, the only question remained was.
Could Isabella Swan carry a tune? For her sake Aro hoped so,
Her very life depended on it.