Zinnia
So this was a chalant fic had worked on. Thought I might share it on here.
When Dick was younger, he remembers the grand piano that used to sit in the manor’s common room. The antique was an old family heirloom that had belong to Bruce’s grandfather, which was then passed on to Bruce’s father and since he passed, it was passed on to him.
Dick had taken an interest in the piano. He remembers his dad playing one night when he and his family had taken a break from the circus. He didn’t know the song, but he remembered how beautiful the notes sounded every time his fingers would press down on the keys. His interest didn’t go unnoticed.
Bruce never picked up the talent and he never really had time to learn how to play it between running Wayne Corp by day and being a dark vigilante by night. Alfred though had been taught at a young age and often had to play when he had served a royal family. He was happy to teach the young acrobat the ways of the piano.
While he was still living in the manor, Alfred taught him to play piano. He didn’t get as many lessons as he wanted since he still had school, crime fighting and the Team. Alfred did the best he could.
Once the Team found out about his secret identity they often came by and they found out he could play. So some nights instead of hanging out in his room, they would curl up in the common room by the fireplace and listen to him play the piano while sipping on some of Alfred’s hot chocolate.
Years went by and soon Dick moved out of the manor and got his own apartment. Alfred stopped playing as much without someone to teach it to, so the piano was later abandoned, but not forgotten.
Bruce moved the piano to another part of the manor around the time Time became Robin. The piano wasn’t mentioned again until nine years later.
Bruce and Diana wanted everyone to come over for a family dinner, so early on a Saturday, every bat, leaguer, team member and close friend of the family were invited over. Granted, it was a lot of people so it was easy to lose a six year old.
Mary Aster wandered off into the mansion and Dick went looking for her, knowing how hard it is to maneuver through the labyrinth of a house. He found her in one of the few rooms that wasn’t being used for anything.
It was spotless, but mostly empty. Nothing was inside the room except for Mary Aster and the piano.
His daughter hadn’t noticed him yet, a skill he was still trying to teach her. She was running her small hands over the sleek black of the old piano. Her fingers moved down to the keys and hovered over one of the ivories before he made his presence known.
“It’s an antique, you know.” Mary didn’t so much as jump. Maybe she was used to it since she’s around so many jump scaring bats and birds. He felt a strange sense of pride in that.
“Really?” She turned and watched with wide eyes as her father walked from the door to her side.
“Yep. It was your great-great grandfather’s.” Mary spotted a wistful smile on her father’s face as he too ran his fingers along the smooth top exterior of the piano, a sort of nostalgic look if she guessed right.
“It used to sit in the common room. Bruce moved it here a few years ago.”
“But it’s so clean.” His daughter marveled.
“Alfred must come here and clean it often.” The sound of wood scratching against the floor echoed through the room as Dick pulled out the bench. He took a sit and patted the space beside him invitingly. “Want to hear how it plays?” Mary Aster’s eyes grew wide with delight as she hurriedly took a seat beside him.
“Do you know any songs, dad?”
Dick thought about it for a moment, “Well, there is one song your Uncle Alfred taught me.”
“Can I hear it?”
With a simple nod, Dick straighten his posture and positioned his fingers over the keys just as he was taught. His daughter sat upright and stared intently at his fingers and the keys.
The song starts off as slow and soft, with a mix of long holds and short taps. The empty room made the music echo and bounce back, creating a small little world of music just for her. Mary Aster closed her eyes as the melody swept over her.
The tone and the melody was sad and melancholy, like it’s reminding you of nostalgic memories or past mistakes, things you wish you could change or go just go back to. But it was also… nice. It was also like a gentle caress, or a mother’s hug, telling you it’s all going to be okay even as the world’s crumbling around you, comforting and sweet but sad.
As the soft tones sped up, Mary Aster peeked open her eyes, scared of interrupting the peaceful melody, and looked over at her father.
Dick eyes were closed as his fingers danced over the ivory keys. He was slightly swaying with the music, letting the sounds and notes carry him along as if he was in a trance. To Mary, it was beautiful.
He pressed down on the final note and time felt like it stood still , the trance gone but the melody still heavy in the air. He opened his eyes and looked at his daughter, and he smiled as he lifted a single finger to catch the solitary tear that was rolling down from the beautiful eyes that her mother gave her. “Are you okay?”
“Mmhmm,” she sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “It was so beautiful, dad.”
“It is.” He stood up from the bench and gently lifted his little girl up into his arms. “You know, I played this song for your mother too.”
“Did she cry, too?”
“She did. She also thought it was beautiful.”
“Can she come and listen to the song too?”
“Maybe after dinner, little birdy.”
