Chapter Text
To say Eda was wasted was an understatement. The woman could normally hold her liquid well enough, but this time she’d really done herself in. She slumped over the kitchen counter (or was it a bar?). She could no longer place where or when exactly she was. A guttural groan escaped her throat. A dull headache threatened to pierce through the drunken haze and elixir, predictably, did not mix well with the fermented components found in Apple blood. Her stomach grumbled. That, and not eating beforehand too.
Dammit.
She absentmindedly swirled the last puddle of ‘blood lingering in her cracked glass. Since she’d gone this far, she might as well down another right? What difference would it make anyway. The sound of liquid in the glass was better than the silence. The night was quiet. The bar (house?) was empty. There was too much space. If people existed - if they ever existed at all, anywhere near her - they were nowhere to be seen.
It was dark. Dark and alone. Dark and alone and quiet. If she closed her eyes and listened hard enough, she could almost hear the screech of a beast and talons scratching against the floor and closing in on her…
The glass was now overflowing. Apparently, some unseen force had lifted the bottle for her and decided that another drink was in order. An unseen force that was her pale ghostly hands attached to her limbs attached to her body. Her nails made such a nice tinkly noise when they hit the glass.
Better than silence.
Well.
Here’s to another.
Now there was the sound of gulping. Fast, frantic gulping, determined to spiral further into confusion and nostalgia and oblivion. Determined to stall the silence if only for a little while. Anything to avoid thinking about the quiet. Worse than the cursed pseudo-sounds of her literal inner demon was what the silence meant. Silence meant no buzzing conversation. Silence meant no youthful laughter. Silence meant no music.
Eda loved music. Missed it to bits.
The glass was finished and slammed to the counter hard enough that the spiderweb crack crawled upward. The next wave of poison hit promptly enough but it did nothing to dull the ache in her ears. She wanted music again. When would music be back? Sure she could play the old phonograph or mess around on a cittern, but that was just noise like the clashing of cymbals.
She wanted real music.
To her, it was more than a sound. It was the scent of forest and sandalwood. It was the touch of calloused hands with painfully gentle fingers. It was the sight of surroundings cast in an ethereal red glow. The taste of music varied each time. When with music, the lips shared the same taste as the ‘blood. Sometimes music tasted salty, like when gently nibbling its ear.
Or earring…
The reflex kicked in again. But this time, there was no gush of liquid. No sound to fill the void. The bottle was empty. She looked in the disposal. Several more empty bottles glared back at her.
A new, pathetic sound broke through the quiet. Whimpering. Sadness. The volume stayed the same no matter where she wandered. Actually, no - it increased. Not from proximity or location. It shouldn’t have taken her so long to realize where it was coming from. Her vision was fuzzy from more than the drinks and her lungs ran out of air eventually as silent sobs demanded an inhale at some point. She wondered if maybe silence was better after all. She stumbled (when did she stand?) from one entryway to the next. Or at least she thought she did. Somehow, she wound up right back where she was before (had she even moved?)
Footsteps.
Footsteps closer.
Hers or another’s, she couldn’t tell.
Handheld candlelight approached, effectively piercing the dark and illuminating a fuzzy but familiar shape. She squinted. Even this intrusion of light made her retinas shriek. (Had the beast inside come out? Was that why it hurt?)
The voice hurt more. “Eda?”
“Music,” the voice emitting from drunken chords sounded absurdly hoarse. “Muh… music…”
The face in the candlelight blinked. “Huh? Music? What do you mean by--” it must’ve seen the glass. Its tone shifted. “Oh. I see. Something’s been bothering you again, hasn’t it?” Music didn’t sound so pretty right now. It sounded hurt. Maybe she could cheer it up.
“Muuuusicccc c’moooonnnn it’s so quiet… In here…. Can ya……. Can ya….” the rest of the words were lost in a sea of liquor. “Whendidya….” she hiccuped. “When did you start…. When did get back?”
It sat across from her, hands folded demurely and expression serious but not unkind. “I heard a glass crack and no small amount of sobbing.”
Disappointment renders the notes sour, “I’d half hoped you’d knocked something over and hurt yourself, not this again.” The serenade paused. “N-not that I’d want you to hurt yourself at all it’s just… I’m worried. I worry for you sometimes.”
Did she mention that music had the most beautiful emeralds for eyes that stung like daggers when they were upset?
She’d tried to reply, only to have her lips churn out some indiscernible mush.
“Well?” The far more articulate voice of music prompted. “I want to know: what’s upsetting you right now?” Music touched their hands to hers.
Those calluses feel just like theirs…
Her throat tightened. She waited for music’s pretty voice to fill the void with questions. They may not have been nice questions but music was here….
When it was clear music would not continue, she did.
There was supposed to be laughter. There was supposed to be dismissal. The two of them were supposed to redirect them somehow. Instead, a sound she didn’t expect filled the quiet.
“Too…. Iss…. It’s too… too quiet. I’m missing…” Her face was warm and wet. “What if…….. laughter and music…… what if they’re gone….. what if the sun stays down, and, and….” A hiccup and gasp. “Even if it doesn’t… even if it’s all here for now, how long until…. How long until there’s nothing else but silence…. Until there’s no one else and the sun doesn’t rise again……”
Music listened intently, nodding every so often. “You’re afraid of being alone again, aren’t you?” What soft compassionate songlike words.
She couldn’t tell if she nodded or just slumped forward. Either way they seemed to get it.
“Oh Eda…,” a gentle squeeze of the hand. “You’re not alone.”
“But ….. whaddif one day….”
“That day is not today. That night is not tonight. And I promise you, when you wake up—“
“And if I’m…..” she hiccuped. “What it’s a dream? All the nice…. All the nice things…. If it isn’t real then……I don’t ever wanna……” another pathetic sob. “Never wanna wake up again.”
She regretted it as soon as the words were spoken. There was nothing but silence, silence, silence for what was probably seconds but felt like years.
Finally, the tentative voice spoke again. “You said you wanted music, right?”
“I’d die for it right about now,” whined she.
“No one’s dying,” it assured her. “I’ll just play something for you that will help calm you and bring you to bed, if that’s all right with you.”
A jerky but enthusiastic nod. Titan, just a little tune would do so good.
They summoned their bow and violin. They began to stroke the instrument. Stopped. “And we’re talking about this when you’re sober, all right?” She nodded, nodded, nodded. Anything for just a little music right now.
“Good. Now,” the tune began low and slow at first. “Try to relax for me. Trust me.”
“Mkayyyy,” she drawled, already getting lost in the melody that quelled the quiet and gently took control of her limbs in order to help her walk in a straight line. The purpose may have been less than ideal, but she indulged in the use of their magic anyway. The sensory delights overshadowed all. She followed them up the stairs, to the bedroom, into the nest (so she HAD been in the house the whole time). They said no more.
They sang instead. The lyrics, whatever they were, weaved their way into her head and turned the chaotic looseness of drunkenness into a softer calm. She fell asleep on the nest before she knew it.
“We’re going to talk about this,” their voice ominously warned. She shuddered. “But I’ll be around the next morning to talk about it to begin with. You can be sure of that. That, and,” a kiss to her forehead. “I love you. I love you, Eda. Tonight concerns me but it doesn’t change the fact that I love you.”
“Love youuuu tooooo, my music,” she sleepily drawled back.
This time when the darkness and quiet came for her, she didn’t fight back.