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When he spots the silver hair in the corner of the music hall, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart briefly wonders if he made the right choice in coming here.
The music hall is crowded with Chaldea staff and Servants alike, all enjoying a night of entertainment away from battle. Mozart can sense the veil of magic in the air that keeps all powers suppressed, in an attempt to prevent Servants from killing each other. If there’s a good time to approach Antonio Salieri, it would be now.
Salieri is quite physically weak without his Mystic Code and thus will not likely pose a physical risk to Mozart, but knowing the dampening magic does nothing to the Avenger class curse of eternal hatred makes him hesitate. It hurts him to hear Salieri repeating the accusations that corrupted his Saint Graph when none of it was true, and knowing that it also hurts Salieri himself only makes the pain worse.
At first, Mozart considered staying away in an attempt to avoid provoking Salieri’s rage. But after Salieri saved his life more than once when they were forced to work together, Mozart has started to think that the Antonio Salieri he once loved – and is still in love with – is still somewhere inside the twisted Servant. And he hates to say it, but it gives him hope that someday Salieri can be free from his hatred.
“Hey Amadeus! What’s up?”
It seems that Marie has found him.
The young queen slides up next to her favorite musician in an attempt to see what Mozart has been watching. Upon recognizing the silver hair belonging to a certain Avenger, she smiles. “Still holding a torch for him all this time, I see.”
“I know, Marie. Just…” He knows that she knew about Salieri’s… condition, how mere mentions of Mozart can drive him into an unstoppable rage. Somehow she also knew that Mozart had fallen in love with his friend and rival, long before he realized it himself.
“Mister Salieri is a good match for you.” She winks at her friend’s eyebrow raise. “Really. I’m glad you were able to move on, Amadeus. He’s much more of an intellectual equal for you than I am.”
“You keep saying that as if he didn’t want to murder me on the spot.”
“I think he cares, but it’s hard for him to show that. In any case, if you want to try your luck, there is no better time than tonight. Good luck.”
Marie lightly shoves at him before waltzing away, and Mozart finds himself coming to a decision.
Salieri looks up at Mozart’s approach.
The Italian musician has always been a sharp dressed man, Mystic Code notwithstanding. And yet somehow he’d managed to be even impeccable tonight, with the trench coat and tie adding a layer of mystery to the man.
“Have you come to pity me, Amadeus?”
Even though the scathing barbs, Mozart can sense some hesitation in Salieri’s words. As if the other musician’s heart was not entirely in it, and it gives him hope.
He opted not to answer and fuel Salieri’s rage any further. Instead, he extends a hand towards a confused Salieri, fully expecting to get rejected. Maybe with even more aggressive remarks.
“May I offer you this dance?”
***
A few seconds passed as the two musicians deliberate their courses of action.
Then Salieri takes his offered hand.
Hesitantly, as if he was afraid the prodigy was just a fleeting mirage that would disappear in front of his eyes again.
Mozart relishes in the firm grip of slender fingers, before reminding himself that he’s here to try and mend their old relationship. “Shall we then?”
Salieri doesn’t answer as the two of them weaves through the crowd, nor does he comment on Mozart’s strangely tight grip on his hand. It’s only when he realizes they are headed for the stairs heading to the rooftop that Salieri balks, but the Italian musician doesn’t stop in his steps to follow Mozart.
“Are you drunk? This goes to the rooftop.”
“It’s too crowded in here… maybe we can go somewhere a little more personal.”
The soft breeze of the empty rooftop is quite a change comparing to the massive crowd within the music hall. It’s a clear night with no clouds, allowing them to see the night sky glittering with stars from the rooftop.
Salieri is reminded of his last moments in the Russian lostbelt. A night sky full of stars, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star playing on the piano, Mozart smiling at his side as the world shattered-
The lostbelt is gone now, with only memories of those who survived as proof that it ever existed.
Those hands that conduct music worthy of the heavens, broken and thrown to the side like a used toy-
“Antonio?”
“Hm?”
“You were spacing out… are you alright?”
Did he? Those memories were fleeting, but so real. “It is none of your business, Amadeus. Keep going.”
And in a way, he’s glad for it. In the moments of lucidity when the Wailing Facade wasn’t fighting him for control of his mind and body, he would long to return to those days together. When they were just close friends writing music and bantering about everything… and Salieri would keep his feelings buried in the deep corners of his heart. Even now, he finds it easier to hide within the Mystic Code and let the anger burn away at his memories of Mozart fighting that executioner over Queen Marie Antoinette’s affection.
With just the two of them away from others and his inability to summon the Wailing Facade, Salieri is forced to confront the depths of his feelings after decades of hiding. And he hates it. What reason would a prodigy like Mozart has to notice a mediocre man like Antonio Salieri?
Mozart has a suspicious look on his face – he clearly doesn’t buy Salieri’s response – but decides to not press further.
“You are strangely distracted today.”
Somehow Mozart leads him to the center of the rooftop, between the potted plants and ornaments someone had placed there. At least there’s some privacy to hide his failure from everybody else when it inevitably come to pass.
A new piece of music starts playing from within the hall, muffled but still audible under their feet. It’s soft and vibrant, and Salieri feels like he’s in a dream as Mozart effortlessly slides into his arms.
The best and worst thing that could happen to him, all at once.
***
The music flowing in the air, the movements, the soft moonlight shining on them. Everything creates a strange ethereal feeling that Salieri does not know how to describe.
Dancing was something he was not taught in life, and yet his feet take him along the beat of the music without thought. Probably because he’s letting Mozart lead, and Mozart is so warm and not broken in pieces and this doesn’t feel real, an Avenger will never have a happy ending-
A warm hand on his face makes his thoughts skid to a halt.
“Stay with me, Antonio.”
Oh.
At some point they have stopped to a standstill, basking in the moonlight.
Mozart’s smile is as brilliant as the sun, and it warms Salieri’s long dead heart. Without the constant anger from the Wailing Facade eating away at him, his feelings are strangely refreshing. Like rain in a hot summer day.
“I didn’t ask you for a dance just to make you fall asleep on me, Antonio Salieri. Where’s that ferocity when you wanted to kill me?”
“…I am not Salieri.”
Salieri freezes as Mozart draws him into an embrace. The wind carries the scent of flowers, and Salieri wants nothing more than to hold the other musician, savor the feeling that he kept buried all these years. But he can’t. He doesn’t deserve this.
“Salieri would get angry whenever someone did something stupid, especially if I did it.” Mozart lays his head on a stunned Salieri’s shoulder. “The Salieri I know loves anything sweet. He also loves music as much as his own being.” There are fingers on his wrist now, his pulse racing under the gentle touch. “As far as I am concerned, you are Antonio Salieri.”
He wants to believe it. That he’s only a musician and friend to Mozart, and not the legend of the entity that led to the death of the child of God.
“Amadeus… I…”
“You promised we’ll see each other again, remember? I waited for so long. Even after coming here, to Chaldea… I kept up hope that I would see you again. Antonio.”
The music has gone quiet at some point, replaced by Gilgamesh’s booming voice. And yet Salieri can’t care further than what is happen here and now. Something that had only surfaced in his wildest dreams, but he never dared to hope that it would come true.
“You are thinking too much again.”
…He’s embracing Mozart, fingers buried in the thick blond hair. The other musician’s hands on his back feel like patches of burning fire.
Something inside him breaks at the thought of Mozart waiting for him.
The prodigy. The child of God. Mozart has Queen Marie Antoinette and other people caring for him… What has he done to deserve this? Waiting for a mediocre musician like him, all because of a promise he made in life?
“…Why?”
“Do I need a reason?”
“What about Marie? You loved her…”
“It’s true that I loved Marie, but…” Mozart holds up a finger, and Salieri stops himself. “I’m not in love with her. Not in the same way as I do... with you.”
Crimson eyes widen at the confession, but Mozart quickly goes on before he gets interrupted further.
“I know this sounds quite strange, but I’ve thought about it ever since I arrived at the Throne of Heroes.
You understood me better than anyone; even Marie doesn’t understand my love for music.
You were there for me when most of the world turned their back on me.”
Throughout it all, Salieri is completely stunned.
“And… you stayed by my side when it all ended.
Thank you, Antonio. For everything.”
Mozart’s emerald eyes meet Salieri’s own crimson, smiling like a dream.
Salieri stares at Mozart for a long moment, before bursting into laughter. A fleeting feeling of guilt crosses his mind, before he forcibly pushes it away.
“Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. If you are going to try and trick me, I am going to kill you.”
***
He has expected Mozart to back away, even fleeing with that outburst. Facing the rage of an Avenger is terrifying, and most choose to avoid it instead of confrontation.
On the other hand, Salieri had hoped that Mozart would leave, so he doesn’t have to deal with the emotions that are not hatred he’s feeling right now. Especially the hope at Mozart being willing to reconcile with him… and the promise of something more, something Salieri has craved ever since he arrived here, no, before that. And he would much rather keep the prodigy at arm’s length with anger and pain, because at least he can’t be hurt if he never got close in the first place.
Salieri knows he would probably lose whatever is left of himself should he lose Mozart again, likely succumbing fully to the Wailing Facade and cease to be anything other than an entity born of hatred.
But Mozart doesn’t leave, or even take a step back.
“You are scowling again, just like old times... Don’t you ever smile anymore, Antonio?”
Before Salieri can respond, Mozart grabs his shoulder and pulls him in.
His world narrows down to just the two of them in that moment. The scent of flowers, the feeling of Mozart’s lips on his own, this strange feeling of warmth running through him and sweeping away the constant flow of hatred-
They finally break apart, Mozart whispering words upon the Avenger’s lips as he pulls back.
“I’ve always wanted to do that.”
Salieri is conflicted. His Avenger nature screams to kill, to maim the Servant he’s sharing this passionate moment with, to fulfill the goal that gave rise to his very existence. But… his heart is basking in the whirlpool of emotions, pushing him to cherish these feelings. A powerful force drowning out the hatred in his mind, encouraging him to take the chance and return the favor to the one man he has always cared for.
And he’s not opposed to it either.
“Amadeus…”
“I’m sorry, if I offended you in some way-”
Salieri silences Mozart before he started rambling with a finger to his lips, before meeting the composer’s gaze with his own.
“You are a fool, Amadeus. A fool that courted Death… and stole his heart out from underneath him.”
Mozart’s eyes widen in surprise just as Salieri pulls him back in, firmly intent on making his newfound feelings known.
There’s no more burn of anger, or the bitterness of unrequited love. Just the feeling of being whole again.
***
The magical veil starts to lift – it seems the party is drawing to a close, probably with the mages maintaining the spell finally passing out drunk or lost interest.
Red fills Salieri’s vision as the Wailing Facade breaks its way out of containment, finally being free from the spell that kept it away. And yet he feels none of the raging hatred that often accompanies the use of the Mystic Code, his mind clear and free of anger even as the living metal takes form and warps his physical body. Instead, there’s only bliss and satisfaction of love keeping him anchored to sanity, to Mozart.
There’s no anxiety, no fear in Mozart’s eyes as Salieri’s visage disappears behind the Wailing Facade.
When the crimson figure holds out his hand, the Caster takes the silver clawed hand in his own. He leans against the crimson plates as Salieri picks him up in a bridal carry, content to be in the arms of his beloved Avenger. Mozart doesn’t know where they are going, but he can’t bring himself to care. As long as he is with Salieri, he can go anywhere.
The Avenger briefly shifts his weight, before he leaps into the night sky with the Caster in tow.
Salieri effortlessly sails through the air with Mozart in his arms, his heart soaring with love and the Wailing Facade as its wings.
Unbeknownst to them, Queen Marie Antoinette smiles from the balcony as she watches the couple disappears into the distance.
By the time the voices in the hall die down and the participants are gathering up for departure, the two musicians are long gone.
***
They settle down on the balcony leading to Mozart’s personal room.
Salieri is warm to the touch despite being covered in living metal, and Mozart is glad for it. The black winglike appendages seem to curl up around Mozart, shielding him from the winds as they quietly bask in the moonlight.
In their previous encounters, Salieri was always a raging mad creature whenever he’s wielding the power of the Mystic Code – screaming bloody murder and cutting down enemies in his path with both his blade and deadly music. Seeing Salieri in the same form yet tenderly protective of him is not something Mozart is used to, but not entirely unwelcome.
Not that he minds. Salieri is always beautiful to him regardless of what form he chose to take.
“Hey, Antonio? I’d like to spend some more time with you after this. If it’s fine with you, of course.”
There’s no verbal response, but a stripe of black reaches out to lightly touch Mozart’s cheek. He smiles at the touch, before reaching out to take hold of the sleek metal in lieu of Salieri’s (currently occupied) hand.
Mozart has to admit to himself that he is looking forward to spending a lot more time with Salieri, but he’s not sure how comfortable the other composer would be, murderous intent and all. Then there’s the matter of the Wailing Facade, and Mozart would prefer to not get derailed by the Mystic Code when they are together; he is sure the thing is what causes Salieri to be out for his blood, or it just enjoys being the third wheel whenever he wants to get close to the Italian composer.
In any case, he’s content to let Salieri set the pace; they have all the time in the world.
“Antonio, let me down. Aren’t you tired from carrying me?”
Salieri lets him down without much hassle, other than a quiet hissing noise that Mozart takes as disagreement. The air suddenly becomes colder as Mozart leaves Salieri’s embrace, and the composer briefly shivers at the chill.
The next thing he knew was a very warm solid weight plastering itself against his back, and silver claws gently settling on his arms. Salieri makes a noise that sounded like a long sigh, before the Avenger lays his head on the Caster’s shoulder. Mozart lets his head lean to the side, next to Salieri in a reciprocating gesture.
By all logic, he knows he should feel caged, claustrophobic. What with the Avenger that has sworn to kill him right next to him, with sharp metal claws that can easily wound him in a matter of seconds. Instead, he feels only bliss. The warmth of requited love burns bright in his heart, but it’s even stronger than what he had felt for the women in life. Comparing to Constanze, or even Aloysia, Salieri is something else. And he intends to enjoy it for all it’s worth.
“Thank you, Antonio. For giving me a chance.”
***
Mozart is pretty sure he has lost track of time, when something in the air shifts – as if a foreboding aura is fading – at the same time Salieri finally lets go of him and pulls back.
He turns back in time to see the Mystic Code peels away, leaving behind a tired Salieri. It reminds him of his own exhaustion, which is starting to make itself known.
“It’s late… I should leave. Good night, Amadeus.”
The Italian composer turns inside to leave, when Mozart’s grip on his sleeve stops him.
“Wait.”
Salieri’s crimson gaze is softer than when they were at the party, and Mozart finds himself mesmerized. “Yes?”
“…Stay with me? At least for tonight.”
Silence follows, and Mozart wonders if he has overstepped yet again, or worse, pushing Salieri too fast when the Avenger is not ready-
Until Salieri answers.
“If you will have me.”