Miles - Vincent

Strong Bond



It was one of this things that he did so naturally—and beautifully so. It was strange how such masculine hands that were often on the fierce end of a weapon could also be at the end of a talent so wonderfully gentle that it was hard to think of these hands capable of doing such completely opposite things.

Had he still lived under the strict society that ruled most drow, Miles’s hands would undoubtedly never come across such an instrument. Since coming—so many, many years ago, to the world of Nor, Miles had been introduced to the most simple joys of life.

The song that he played had a certain somber gentleness that made his chest feel sort of strange—a feeling that he had eventually come to understand as a fond sadness. His hand moved with smooth rhythms as it ran the bow across the cello’s humming strings, while his other hands fingers moved with perfect grace, as if coaxing the tender sounds out with caressing touches.

His white bangs tinkled the front of his face, and despite the obvious seriousness of the song, he smiled. His eyes were closed as his body moved slowly with each gentle shift of tones. It felt good to let his soul and body intertwine. “Music is for the soul”—Miles’s father hand once told him. And Yami would know; his soul had been fed music for the longest time— spurring a most talented and inspiring musician. He emerged with many vessels to express emotions that he had spent so many years suppressing.

Miles knew the feeling. When he had first been taken to live with Yami and his family, Miles had not known much emotion. He had never been encouraged to express any—even if his mother had always privately held him and tried to show him some love. She had not been like the rest of their kind. She had been… gentle. Soft. She had died to try and protect those ideals she attempted to pass on to her son. Miles thanked her every day for her sacrifice.

But he had not always—no, emotions had been too strange for him. He had tried to stifle them—and after seeing his mother die before him he had felt as though these silly things people called emotions were the root of all evil. It was because she refused to let go of them that she had died, leaving him without her. He had found that most unforgivable.

Then one day, Miles witnessed a miracle; emotions without words. Sounds that twisted and twirled together, pulling heartstrings he hadn’t quite realized were still there. It was as he heard his father playing the piano for the first time that Miles suddenly knew why these things called emotions were so important. They made you feel—and even if the feelings hurt some times, it was more than the numbness he had always felt. It was only days after that Yami had introduced the cello to him. Miles had been playing it ever since.

“You stopped,” Vincent said suddenly, looking over from his spot nestled on the sofa. Miles blinked his eyes opened, turning his auburn gaze to his elder brother. Miles tilted his head slightly. Vincent smiled, “You were playing beautifully. It was really moving. I was enjoying it. Why’d you stop?”

Miles looked down at his hands—his fingers were still pressing down on the strings and his hand was still poised, ready to fall back into rhythm. The drow suddenly just didn’t feel like playing anymore. He felt sick to his stomach.

“Vincent…?” Miles shoulders slumped and he sat back in his chair. The cello fell limply against his thighs and his bow hand dropped listlessly next to him. Vincent looked fully to him—alarmed. “I feel strange…”

“Strange? Are you sick? What’s wrong?” The demon quickly set aside his notes and made his way to his brothers side. “Miles?”

“…Sometimes, when I play music I think of her… and it makes everything inside hurt. But it’s not a painful hurt… it’s like…” Miles’s face twisted as he tried hard to find the words. He quietly touched his fingertips to the middle of his chest. “It aches… to think that she did this all for me.”

“You mean your mother?” Vincent asked quietly, crouching beside the drow. His gentle hands reached out to take his brothers battle-worn one. Miles gaze dropped to their hands. The drow sighed quietly. “She must have been really wonderful, Miles. She wanted you to have a life. A real one. From what I’ve heard, you wouldn’t have ever experienced that where you came from.” Miles shook his head with agreement. Vincent smiled up at the other, “Why are you so sad?”

“…I wish she could see me now. Or hear me play.”

“I think she has, Miles… I think she’s always there with you.” Vincent shrugged a little, “It may sound cliché, or maybe even a little silly, but I think that your mother is protecting you… She just seems like that sort of person.”

Miles blinked one last time at his brother before he lifted his bow up and admired the perfectly straight white hairs. They were covered with a hint of rosin. Miles prided himself on how well he kept his beloved cello, Iimavin.

He had named it after his mother. Her name had meant “soul guardian” in their language. He felt as though his mother had protected his soul by giving her life, and this instrument that he held in his hand was most definitely an instrument of the soul. She would be his soul guardian, forever and ever… Vincent was right—that just seemed like something she would do. Something a perfect mother would do—provide a most perfect world for the most gentle of souls. Her Miles would conqueror emotions. The good and the bad; he would have the right to conqueror them.

“Miles?” Vincent frowned up at his little brother, “Are you going to be all right.”

“One more song… I think she’ll enjoy just one more song.” Miles sniffled away the tears, sat up straight and with barely an effort allowed his body to return to its former glory.

This song, Vincent noted with a slight smile, seemed a lot more uplifting.


[Ramirez]

<sub>A/N:
Story Bond 35/81 of a project I'm working on.

I did not proofread any of this, so I apologize if it's sloppy. I started it kind of late and didn't want to have to get back into it at a later date.

for some reason, Vincent wasn't all that prominent in this story bond, but I think that's all right. Vincent has plenty other bonds that he plays a more fruitful role in. I think his simple prodding for inner-reflection and thought is good enough in itself.

Miles is... pretty much just awesome. I actually came by this idea of him playing the cello on accident. I was listening to the song Arioso by Bach and at the same time my story bond for these two were in the back of my head.. and I just sort of let myself explore the emotions of someone playing that song and eventually a face and story behind it appeared. That face and story ended up belonging to Miles... and so this story was born.</sub>


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