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Kaze first hears the song on a clear, crisp night, whispering through the halls of Castle Krakenburg.
It’s a flicker in the dark, just loud enough to pull Kaze from liquid, half-formed dreams. He doesn’t open his eyes at first, even as his body tenses and his hand slides beneath his pillow. He waits, feeling the silence press thick and heavy against his eyelids and eardrums. He finds himself being pulled back into sleep as it winds around his bones in gentle tendrils.
They tense once more when he hears three high notes, played in quick succession, and realizes Xander’s side of the bed is empty and cold.
He forces his thoughts to remain calm and ordered as he pulls his shuriken from beneath the pillowcase and slips into his clothes, ignoring how fast his heart seems to beat as he lights the lantern and steps into the hallway.
His worry fades, but doesn’t vanish, when he sees the torches still flickering in the hallways. He keeps his ears pricked for stray footsteps and muffled curses, still holding the lantern in front of him as he walks, trying his best to follow the halting notes.
It’s a song, he realizes, from an instrument he’s never heard before. It’s hesitant and off-key, but Kaze finds himself calming all the same, his senses coming into sharper focus as he strains his ears.
In the end, the notes die off before he can determine where they’re coming from. Silence surrounds him again, and despite himself he stops in front of one of the windows. The full moon hang full and bright in the sky. It seems close enough that Kaze could reach out and pluck it, if he wanted.
The notes buzz about his head as his eyes follow the curve of the moon and trace the constellations that Xander taught him one night. He tries to put them together in his head, to make a picture of the song like he now can of the stars in Nohr’s sky.
(He remembers hiding his face from the moon years ago on a dark and lonely night, lifting his head only when a steady hand reached down to ruffle his hair, one red eye appraising him with a softer look. “You shouldn’t let them catch you like this,” his brother grumbled, but Saizo’s words held no bite. “...All right. Just this once. Relax and close your eyes.”
A pause, and then the room fills with the sound of his brother’s humming.)
“Kaze?”
He doesn’t allow himself to start as Xander’s voice cuts through the quiet, instead turning his head and smiling as Xander walks down the hall to him. “Is everything all right?” he asks, his voice warm as his husband draws close.
“I could ask the same of you--it’s late.” Xander draws him close, pressing his smile to Kaze’s temple in a slow, warm kiss. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Kaze bites his lip and hides his face in Xander’s robe, soft Hoshidan silk pressed against his cheek. “Something like that,” he murmurs. “You weren’t in bed when I woke up...I got worried.”
Kaze feels the slight twitch of Xander’s fingers on his shoulder, and lifts his gaze to cup his lover’s cheek. “Where were you?” he asks, the question slipping from him more frankly than he would like. It’s borne from a small spark of curiosity, but only grows as Xander’s eyes widen, just for a moment, before a rehearsed smile slides onto his lips.
“I just had something I needed to attend that slipped my mind earlier today--important papers to sign. There’s so many now that they all blur together.” Xander reaches up to cup the back of Kaze’s head, pulling it to rest against his shoulder. “That’s all. I’m sorry for worrying you.”
“You usually wake me to let me know where you’re going, though.”
“I tried. You’re just becoming a deeper sleeper,” Xander says, tone light as he settles a hand on the small of Kaze’s back and pulls away. “Let’s go back to bed. It is entirely too cold--at least let me make it up to you for leaving you alone.”
“Xander...”
Xander’s pulls him close, pressing Kaze against his side. “...Not tonight,” he says. “Please.”
Xander’s tone is soft, but leaves no room for argument. Kaze decides to drop the matter for now, at least, craning his neck to kiss Xander’s jaw as they make their way back to the bedroom.
But the fragments of music still echo in his skull, sink into his marrow, and pulse with the beat of his heart. His body threads itself with questions, even as their bodies and sighs meld together under familiar, long-loved touches.
(If he strains his ears, he thinks he can hear a different song, hummed to him in a voice that echoes through Castle Shirasagi’s halls.)
He finds the piano on the eighth day, after seven nights of brief, clumsy music he’s half-certain he’d dreamed up. It’s almost an accident--he’s taking a respite from his duties, making his way to Xander’s office, when he hears music again.
This sound and song he’s more familiar with. As he follows it, it leads him to an area of the castle he doesn’t often visit. There’s a room at the end of the hallway that he’s passed but never entered, and a high note hangs in the air behind a half-open oak door. He hesitates a moment before pressing the door open--and wincing when the hinges creak.
“Ah! Elise’s bow shrieks against the strings, her song halting as she takes a startled step back. Her eyes are wide, her mouth a small “o” of surprise that quickly morphs into a smile. “Oh, Kaze, you scared me!”
“My apologies, Lady Eli--”
“Hey!” Kaze blinks, starting back himself as Elise stomps over to him and wags a finger in his face. “We’re family now, remember?”
Kaze feels his cheeks flush, smiling in embarrassment as he rubs the back of his neck. “My apologies, L-”
“Kaze.”
“E-Elise.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs as she smiles again, wide and bright. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your playing. You usually practice in the parlor, don’t you?”
“Oh--y-yeah,” Elise says, her smile drooping as she drops her eyes to the side. “I just felt like practicing here today. No pesky older brothers butting in to critique you, or sisters requesting you to play a song you’ve played a hundred times before, or--”
“What’s that?”
Kaze follows her gaze to a covered piece of furniture on the other side of the room, tucked into a dusty, forgotten corner. She brightens a little, taking his hand and guiding him over.
“Oh, I haven’t seen this uncovered for so long! Here--” and with a flourish, Elise pulls the coverlet off to reveal something made of black, lacquered wood; as Elise lifts the lid and props it up, he can see a complex composition of strings and pegs. He runs a finger around the frame, his face turning thoughtful.
“It looks a bit like Leo’s...harpsichord, right? That’s what you call it?”
“Yep! It’s called a piano!” Elise says, moving to the front and lifting yet another lid to reveal a set of white and black keys. “Is this your first time seeing one? Here, you just press down on one of them, and...”
Elise demonstrates with on of the keys on the far left side; a note resonates in the air, quivering and then fading into silence. It’s a soft, familiar sound.
Very familiar, in fact.
“I know a little bit,” Elise admits, “but I’m not that good. I’m not as good as...” she trails off, curling her hands in her lap. “It’s nothing. Never mind.”
Kaze opens his mouth to protest, but decides against it when he sees Elise’s drooped shoulders and pursed lips. Instead, he takes a seat next to her on the bench, his fingertips caressing the ivory keys.
“I hid here a lot, when the other children and their mothers were still here,” Elise murmurs. “Back when things were scary.”
“This does feel like a very safe place.”
Elise lifts her head and smiles. It’s the same look she wore when she tried to be strong and keep the army’s spirits up during the long march through Valla.
“This room is where I decided I wanted to play the violin,” Elise says, standing and walking back over to the small table she’d set the violin on. “I tried the piano first, but my fingers were so clumsy on the keys that I worried I’d break them!”
Her eyes and her smile grow fond as she stands, making her way over to the table where she set her violin. She runs a fingertip over the strings, reaching down and picking it up.
“Music wasn’t as natural to me as it is to--to the others.” She sets the violin on her chin, and brings the bow up to the strings. “But I can’t stop playing now.”
“That’s very admirable,” Kaze says, leaning forward and smiling. “And your hard work comes through--the song you were playing just now sounded magnificent.”
“Thank you!” It’s a blessing to see her face light up, her smile seeming to brighten even the gray sky outside. “It’s not the whole song, though. The melody’s meant to be played with the piano.
“But my old partner hates playing now.”
Elise falls silent, biting her lip and staring at the soot-colored clouds outside the window. Her sorrow seems to drape the room and hang heavy in the air.
He thinks back to the night before and the choppy, clumsy melody that snuck through the shadows. He thinks of the way Xander refuses to meet his eyes when he tries to broach the subject--or how, now that he thinks about it, he’s often seen coming from the direction of this wing of the castle. He thinks of the instruments that all the royal family plays--
All but one.
(And he thinks of two young boys, and how the burden one carried on his shoulders became a wedge driven between them, pushing them apart until it was far too late.)
“I’m still nowhere near where I want to be,” Elise says, cutting through Kaze’s musings, “but I’ve got to keep improving. I want to play something so beautiful that I can inspire those who think they can’t play anymore.”
“I think you’re more inspirational than you give yourself credit for,” he replies, standing and making his way over to her. “Meet me back here tonight, and bring your violin.”
Elise tilts her head, brow furrowed in confusion. “I can play whatever you want now, Kaze--we don’t have to wait until tonight.”
“Trust me, Elise. There’s someone who needs to hear your music.”
When he hears the song that night, he’s already dressed. The shuriken he tucks into his sleeve as he makes his way through the halls makes him feel much calmer, and he doesn’t try to think too long about what that says about him.
The music is more seamless this time, smoother. His feet carry him from his and Xander’s room to the practice room. It’s not even as far of a trip as he’d once thought, now that he knows where it is.
The oak door is cracked, and a faint light flickers within; Elise is nowhere in sight. Kaze treads with quick, light steps to the door and presses an eye to the crack, and a breath he had no idea he’d been holding escapes him in a slow, steady rush.
Xander sits at the piano, his back straight and his face cast in harsh highlights and shadows. Kaze can almost imagine his fingers dancing across the keys, and he’s entranced by Xander’s face, by the way the tip of his tongue slips from between his lips from time to time.
Kaze winces a little as a flat sound cuts through the melody. Xander grumbles to himself frowning and murmuring as he leans in and grabs a sheet, pulling it closer as he adjusts his reading glasses.
A rustle distracts Kaze; his shuriken slips into his hand and his senses sharpen, only relaxing when he turns and sees Elise making her way down the hall. He presses a finger to his lips just in time, seeing her raise her hand and spread her mouth wide in greeting.
“Listen,” he mouths at her. She blinks back in confusion, and Kaze watches her eyes go wide as a tentative chord sings through the air. Kaze takes a deep breath, and pushes the door until the hinges yield a long, dry creak.
“Who’s there?”
A hand flies to Elise’s mouth. “Xa--”
“Shh,” Kaze replies, barely loud enough for her to hear, and holds a hand out for her to stay there as he opens the door the rest of the way and steps in, his smile skewing into embarrassment as he holds his hands up. “It’s just me, Xander. ...Please don’t point Siegfried at me.”
Xander blinks; his shoulders relax, and he leans Sigfried back against the wall. “I--Kaze. What are you doing up so late?”
“Being a good Champion and making sure my husband is protected.”
“Yes. Well, um. You can see that I have no need of that. ...Being protected, I mean.”
“Apparently not.” Kaze’s voice is mild as he slips the shuriken back into his sleeve and plops down beside his husband on the bench.
“...You can go back to bed, if you’d like.”
Kaze relishes the little impish thrill that shivers down his skin as he smirks at Kaze. “It’s your fault that I’m awake,” he says, nodding to the piano. “So this is where you’ve been?”
Xander’s chuckle is a little tight, and embarrassed. But he seems to relax when Kaze reaches up and scratches his back, running fingernails over his shoulder blades. It seems to loosen him up enough to reach out and pluck at the keys. “I sometimes forget how sharp your senses are,” Xander says, and Kaze hums a reply. Silence grows between them, comfortable and warm.
“My mother taught me to play when I was very young,” Xander murmurs. “Some of my earliest memories are sitting beside her and smashing my little hands against the keys. She always just smiled and told me to keep playing. And when I was old enough to learn, she took my hands and showed me just where to put my fingers make the lovely songs she did.”
Xander reaches out and touches the paper in front of him, filled with bars and notes that Kaze can’t even begin to decipher. “This song in particular is one I remember best--one she wrote, a song inspired by the tale of the princes of Ebott. She wrote a part for me and a part for her. I couldn’t wait for the day when we could play it together.”
His hand drops back to the keyboard. “Then she died, and I didn’t play for some time after that.”
Kaze’s gaze shifts from the piano back to Xander. “The four of you all play some form of musical instrument, right?”
“My siblings do, yes. Camilla plays the viola, and Leo the harpsichord. Elise--plays the violin.”
“I’ve heard her. She’s quite determined to play well--gets it from you, I’d say.”
Xander laughs, and the sound makes Kaze think of shattered glass. “Elise is better than me,” Xander says. “She deserves a better practice partner.”
Kaze tries not to think of Elise’s face outside the door. He bites his cheek to keep his mouth shut as Xander starts to speak again.
“I found her crying in here one day, and I couldn’t make her stop. I was out of ideas, so I sat down and played a little lullaby my mother taught me. And I didn’t even realize she’d stopped crying until I looked to my left and found her staring up at me, sniffling, with wide eyes.
“We made a habit of it after that. I encouraged her to explore other types of instruments. And then one day, I came down here and heard this--interesting sound,” Xander says, pausing to fish for the right words. “And there she was, a violin resting on her shoulder, trying to play a song.”
A fond smile tugs Xander’s mouth into a smile, and he sits back, looking around the room. “My memories of practicing here with her are something I hold dear,” he murmurs. “It was wonderful to watch her grow as a musician.”
“And you?”
Xander sighs, and Kaze regrets his words; his husband seems to sag beneath the wight of them, bags forming under his eyes as he runs a hand over his face.
“When I tried to become the prince that Nohr needed me to be--that I thought I needed to be--I told myself that steel and a hardened heart were of more value then a pianist’s fingers. So I trained when I wanted to play. I told myself I hated the piano. And when Elise asked to play one day, I...I snapped at her to stop asking me.”
Xander splays his fingers on the keys, and presses down at the same time with three of his fingers. Kaze’s eyelids flutter as the sound quivers in the air and soaks into his skin.
“Elise persevered, and now she has Princess Sakura to play with--and now I can’t even play a single song without tying my fingers into knots.” Xander sighs, swallowing as his voice grows quiet. “Maybe I’ve made it so that I can’t play anymore. Maybe I made myself hate it.”
“That’s not true.”
Xander’s head whips up, and Kaze follows his gaze to see where Elise stands framed in the doorway. Her back is straight, and she holds her violin and its bow like they’re weapons.
“Elise, what are you--”
“If that were true, then you wouldn’t be down here struggling to play in the middle of the night!” Elise strides into the room, and if Kaze didn’t know any better, Xander seems to shrink from her. “You lied back then,” she says, her tone sure and certain. “That you didn’t enjoy it.”
“Elise,” Xander says, more pleading than pacifying. “I wasn’t lying to you, I was--”
“You were!” Elise snaps, so sudden that even Kaze starts back. “You...you were lying to yourself,” she continues, softer than before. “You miss it. ...And I miss it. I miss playing with you.”
“Elise...”
But she doesn’t answer. She moves to tuck her violin beneath her chin and readies her bow. “Here,” she says, “I’ll prove it to you. She takes a deep breath; Kaze doesn’t dare even blink in the silence that follows.
And then she starts to play.
This tune is different from the one he heard this morning, and it takes Kaze a moment to place it. This is the song he’s been hearing at night, except spun from violin strings and surer, stronger hands. It sounds so very lonely, he thinks, and turns to watch Xander.
Xander’s face shifts; his lips part, his fingers curl, and something sparks in his eyes. He lays trembling fingers against the keyboard and begins to play.
Kaze shuts his eyes to better hear the way the song transforms. He listens to how the piano seems to trail behind, hits a few notes that make the song squawk rather than soar. He notes how the violin seems to hesitate sometimes, trembling on a high note, waiting for its partner to catch up.
He listens as the two parts of the song begin to fall into sync. It’s not perfect; it’s much like reuniting with someone long lost. It’s easing back into old habits after awkward formalities.
It’s the copy of Elise’s book about peace that Xander eyes with sad, tired eyes sometimes, as though he wants desperately to reach out and read it.
He opens his eyes as the song finishes, the piano’s last note fading into silence. Elise’s cheeks are wet in the flickering candlelight, and her shoulders tremble as she lowers her instrument. Xander says nothing, instead standing and making his way to his sister’s side.
“You took the piano part and arranged it for the violin,” Xander says, his voice quite and awed. “You did that all by yourself?”
“C-Camilla and Leo helped some,” Elise says, her voice cracking. “B-but I did the best I could. Even if it’s not as good as you.”
Xander tilts Elise’s face up to meet his. He’s smiling, the edges of his eyes crinkling before he pulls his sister close.
“It’s better than anything I could have done.”
He tightens his hug.
“I am very proud of the musician you’ve become.”
A beat, and then Elise is holding him back, clutching him close, laughing and crying at the same time. Kaze’s heart swells at the sight, letting out a long, slow breath as he leans back, looking over his shoulder at the moon.
(If he strains his ears, he thinks he can hear his brother’s humming, somewhere miles and miles away.)
He’s jerked away from his thoughts by Elise’s hand around his wrist, as she pulls him from the bench and into the hug, her arms around his torso as Xander’s encircle his shoulders. “Thank you, Kaze,” she murmurs into his tunic.
“Yes,” Xander says, kissing Kaze’s forehead and cupping his face. “Thank you.”
And even if he still hears his brother’s song in his heart, Elise’s giggles, the warmth he feels pressed to his husband’s body, is balm enough for tonight.
“Always,” he says with a smile.
Because you’d do the same for me.
Months later, he hears a new song, one joyful and quick and light. He lets his feet wander the oft-trod path to the practice room, door now wide open as rare Nohrian sunlight lays a sharp, bright ray across the floor.
He leans in the doorway and watches Elise tap her foot, eyes closed as her bow dances across the strings. Behind her, Xander focuses on the melody, his fingers flitting along the ivory keys like insects.
He listens to the song swell, tremble, and finish with a flourish. He lifts a hand in greeting as Elise and Xander lift their heads. Elise smiles, reaching out to take his hand as Xander smiles, motioning for him to enter the room.
Any excuses he may have slip from his mind, and he lets himself be drawn into the sunlit room, dripping with gold and the soft sound of laughter.