Alec Troven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
element_wizard) wrote2007-03-14 11:29 pm
element_wizard) wrote2007-03-14 11:29 pm
(no subject)
Alec sat by the fireplace in the common room, his rullette in hand. Hunching over the instrument he sings softly to himself as he strums the strings, a wandering melody arching out into the room. Rosie and Trey lounge near him as he plays, Rosie warbling along with him hesitantly. Trey doesn't appear to be in the mood for singing. He hangs from the mantle piece and watches the room intently.
As he plays, Alec seems to get lost in thought and his voice grows louder and clearer,though the words remain unintelligible to any who aren't from his world. Lilting and wavering the melody morphs from wandering to melancholy. The chords turn minor and his fingers stumble over some of the trickier parts. But he plunges ahead, despite the fumbles and the wrong notes. It's the song that's important. The song, the words. The feeling.
He tries for the feeling of the song. Loss, despair, loneliness. An aching ballad of lovers misplaced. Abandoned. He hadn't sung this one in ages. But the words came to him. Tumbling out.
Until they stopped. He paused in his playing, frowning, trying to remember the words and the notes.
But they were gone.
Forgotten.
He hunches up and holds the instrument to him tightly as the notes fade away.
As he plays, Alec seems to get lost in thought and his voice grows louder and clearer,though the words remain unintelligible to any who aren't from his world. Lilting and wavering the melody morphs from wandering to melancholy. The chords turn minor and his fingers stumble over some of the trickier parts. But he plunges ahead, despite the fumbles and the wrong notes. It's the song that's important. The song, the words. The feeling.
He tries for the feeling of the song. Loss, despair, loneliness. An aching ballad of lovers misplaced. Abandoned. He hadn't sung this one in ages. But the words came to him. Tumbling out.
Until they stopped. He paused in his playing, frowning, trying to remember the words and the notes.
But they were gone.
Forgotten.
He hunches up and holds the instrument to him tightly as the notes fade away.