Work Text:
His breath hitched. Slowly, hesitantly, Clover’s middle finger pushed in one of the piano’s keys. The ivory sang out; at once, his shoulders relaxed. The chime was familiar as always, thin hand curling to rest atop all of the keys.
“My, my..” he nearly whispered, the mellow softness of his voice hardly audible beneath the breeze outside. “I haven’t touched one of you in years.. Let’s see! Do I remember how to play..?”
It had been no less than eight years since he last played the piano. Pages upon pages of sheet music and memories had all fluttered to a gentle halt, their cue signaled with the closure of the key cover. Heavy mahogany had nulled a part of his life he almost couldn’t bear to face, the heavy wisps of his eyelashes hoping to deny it all.
Despite it all, there he sat. He played a chord, practiced hands flowing with instinct. Not a single note sounded sour, flowing along the wind as his gift to the surrounding nature. Just as there was no forest without trees, there was no Clover without music. As if he was born to play, he slowly recalled a melody he had written ever so long ago.
Way back when Earthbread was naught but a lonely land,
Wonder guiding fresh Cookies with books and quills in hand
The kindest growing nation built itself with song and tears
Leading lost souls into a palace that silenced their fears….
He had to admit – it felt.. right.