houseofcards_rp | [OTA] Rhapsody in Spades

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[OTA] Rhapsody in Spades

Sophie gave her the idea, actually, before they'd even gone to Santorini. They'd both been talking about how they missed playing piano - which, actually, was kind of odd, for Zoe. She played it well, but piano was fraught with memories of hours of training. Repetition after repetition of Beethoven and Bach's piano concertos until she reached a level where Charlotte Kattalakis had been satisfied.

Which took a while, to be honest. So music hadn't really been fun except to listen to. Zoe hadn't even considered bringing her piano with her when she switched Suits. It'd been left behind for whatever Six or Seven got her old rooms at Heart Castle.

Still, she did miss it for some reason. She'd started picking at teaching herself some old music on her piano last fall - she'd gotten the sheet music for "Stardust" last October, a birthday gift from her cousin Jessie, and then she'd taught herself "Summertime" last winter before she left. And now she was working on Rhapsody in Blue, which Sophie had mentioned at her party. It's eighteen minutes and not exactly the easiest piece to play, especially if you haven't touched a piano in five months.

But all in all...Zoe's doing pretty well.

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Jazz is a sneaky mistress like that. And, well, so are the Spades. A person learns to enjoy that, or spends their life struggling against it. Chives, at any rate, is fairly Pleased that Zoë's chosen to enjoy both.

"Not slightly, Miss." There wasn't much that escaped Detection, after all, including these little blips in schedules. David had been known to get away with slipping the butler's Attention, but really--he was David. "Ought I mark this as a change?"

He'd certainly not object to bringing her tea here rather than her office. It was Genuinely Special, after all, being allowed these little Moments: hearing Victor sing, seeing Katya throw; learning Zoë played.

It seems like a waste of time not to enjoy it. Which she wouldn't have said five months ago - not about music, possibly about the Spades. It's strange to think that in a way, the Hearts were more...oppressive. But they hadn't meant to be. It was more that she'd never fit there - not like she did here.

The question gives her pause, and makes her fingers still on keys a moment before continuing. "Perhaps...a few times a week." It would be too fast a change to play everyday. Too much like before, when she played everyday in case someone challenged her in piano. That seems unlikely in the Spades.

But she will play more. For fun. Which will be something new for her, as well as new for Chives. "Has it been a good day so far?" she asks as the song ends and she takes a cup of the tea.

"Very good, then, Miss."

The cup will materialize in her hand almost before she's reached for it. Sean has undoubtedly trained her to be prepared for this sort of Attention from a butler--and, well, if Sean hadn't, she must have been a Favoured Spade long enough by now to know what to expect from Chives.

His tuneless hum should likely be taken as a sign of general Approval of the day, although his tone while he resumes fixing her plate slightly is as bland as ever. "One can hardly find cause to complain, I should think."

It's not a question. There's no Inflection for a question. But if it prompts her to tell him why she's shifted to the piano today, he's certainly got his head already canted into a Listening position.

She grew up with Sean as the butler. Making one's own tea in Heart Castle was Disappointing, because you weren't allowing Sean to Take Care. So by the time she'd met Chives, she was certainly well-trained in Accepting. So she smiles a little as she takes that first sip, teacup carefully balanced in her hands.

And she's quiet for a moment. She knows Chives will listen, and she knows he won't say anything if she doesn't want him to listen. That's why it's so easy to be with Chives. She doesn't have to open herself up. But sometimes she does want to. "I missed music," she says after a moment. "I didn't expect to."

There's a fine art to Fussing which most people don't fully appreciate. It takes actual Thought and Effort to find the infinitely many tiny adjustments which allow a person to simply Be in a place waiting for the Precise Amount of Time required for another human being to Reveal the next Need.

It's not long with her, although it does make his fingers pause slightly. "...missed?"

Edited 2012-05-30 16:04 (UTC)

"Mm," Zoe begins, and the pause is to gather her thoughts, though she pretends that it's to choose one of the sandwiches Chives has arranged on the tray. "I haven't played the piano since January," she finally says.

January, of course, being when she finally pushed back and turned her world upside down. Though it was less upside down than right side up, finally.

"Really, Miss." It's not quite a question or a statement, more a polite Affirmation of receiving. Of Understanding, as much as he's capable.

Which is not so much an emotional understanding as a Comprehending of Magnitude in his own terms.

"You've quite a talent, then, to play so well without much recent practice."

"No, not really." Zoe denies any talent on her part immediately, and it has nothing to do with modesty. It's just..a firm belief that that's true, from years of being told it. Just like singing that way, and dancing. Though the latter was conquered, in a way, by realizing that she'd rather dance badly with Victor than sit on the sidelines, And then realizing in turn that perhaps she wasn't actually that bad at it.

Painful instant crushes apparently were good for that.

"I think it's more that I've just played so many years. Fifteen now, and you don't forget skills after that long." Skills, not talents, a fine but important distinction. Or so she'd always been told.

So long as she knew she'd be Required to dance at her wedding. Even Badly. Chives is hardly picky about that.

The tilt of his head is severe in and of itself, but doesn't stick--simply moves in a long sideways sweep like clearing a crick from his neck. It is, perhaps, an adjustment. She's allowed to Pick Words about herself, after all.

"As you say, Miss Zoë." A napkin is offered without stress; he Trusts she's a neater eater than many. "It pleases you to have returned to it?"

Zoe was fairly sure that, if a wedding eventually happened - not something she was actually thinking about at this point, given she couldn't imagine Victor actually proposing - she would dance at it. With Victor, and Chives. And he'd just need to deal with it.

It might be that eventually she accepted that she might possibly be talented, but not yet, and she appreciates not being pushed on it. A lot of other people do, as if repetition would convince her.

She lays the napkin across her lap and gives Chives a considering look. "...Yes. It does, actually."

...he will talk her down from making him dance at her wedding. Later. Once, you know. He's informed his Favourites that they're getting married. There's Time.

There, of course, comes the lifted chin. "Quite lucky we've a piano for you, then."

Here. Where she Belonged. And where she could be Pleased with her music.

Good luck with that one, Chives. She might be flexible on everything else, but. She will be Stubborn when it comes to their butler dancing at the wedding.

Zoe smiles slightly, ducking her head to take a bite of sandwich. "It's very lucky. I appreciate it."

It was strange to most people, she supposed. That the Spades somehow ended up being more nurturing.

Nature's like that. Some of the most vicious creatures are the most adamant, protective mothers. Some of them eat their young, but some of them destroy worlds to take care of Their Own. It's all a matter of which wild animal--or which Spade--a person comes across.

She's come across Chives. Maybe the word isn't 'nurturing,' but 'vicious protection' is clearly In Play.

"And you'll not be shy to let us know how else we might aid your luck, Miss?"

Whatever it is, it's...comforting. Perhaps it's from all the years of being the only one looking out for Zoe - her mother, Charlotte, wouldn't know protective motherhood if it was staring her in the face - but there's something so lovely about knowing that someone will look out for. Even if she doesn't need it, precisely.

It's good to know it's there.

"I won't be." She says it after a moment of eating and drinking, before setting her tea aside. "Do you have any favorite songs, Chives?"

It's another reason the Spades mother themselves, their Selected Few--mothers in this Suit tend to share Charlotte's distinct level of maternal non-instinct.

Her question has him pausing, teapot lifted, not yet properly Refreshing her cup. "...Miss Zoë?"

Personal Preference is Hard. Help him through the concept of why on earth anyone else would care what he Enjoyed listening to.

It just sort of makes you wonder if anyone was born in the right Suit, though Zoe's always been convinced her mother's a misplaced Diamond.

She blinks up at him. It is, perhaps, an unfair question. Sean doesn't much allow himself time for the Personal, she knows. It's how butlers are. But Chives likes to read. He has a favorite book. "My favorite is Stardust," she says softly.

Now it is your turn to share, Chives.

Not everyone was lucky. Chives had been. There was not the faintest doubt in his mind that he could have been anything but Spade. But then, not every Ancient Family had been Bred Selectively the way the Chives family had.

There's a certain slowness to the way he moves the teapot, to the measured pouring and the settling the service back together. He's not particularly good at Personal. It brings that faintly awkward crack to his shoulders, the last vestige of a young man who had grown up just a little Crooked.

She got him a book he Liked for his birthday.

"...I suppose I'm somewhat partial to Pachelbel, Miss."

The Huntlys had mixed with Diamonds and Clubs over the years - it was all written in the family history. And then Papa had been something of a misfiled Spade; he probably would have switched Suits, but there'd been...her.

"Canon in D?" she asks. It used to be one of her favorite things to play at Christmas, though she's still not sure what makes it specifically a Christmas song. Perhaps that's why she starts playing (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=80tCv0Ezse4) it, despite it being May.

And she had found the right Castle. That was all that mattered now.

Nor, particularly, he supposed as he bent himself more properly to the act of settling the tea service into place before he left, did it matter why she'd asked His Preference. Why she'd decided to play something He Liked.

What mattered was that she was Here, she had her Music back, and somewhere along the way his lips had cracked toward Smiling.

It had just taken time. Just like it had taken time to learn that there was not necessarily any way of telling Chives these were Just Things You Did. So she just did them instead.

She let her fingers fly across the keys, smiling slightly, and looks up before he leaves, tea service perfect, neatly set just to the right of the piano.

She's...happy, now.

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[OTA] Rhapsody in Spades

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...Urania tag coming last while I attempt to solidify the Feels.

All the Feels. So many Feels. Urania's Feels are largely trepidition.

Chives' have boiled down to Blue Screen Of Death.

Urania is going ohgodibrokethebutler