Trinity Blood fic: Requiem
Mar. 3rd, 2007 10:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
narcasse529 words. G. Pre and post-Ibelis arc. Isaak, Dietrich & Radu.
The matter of memorial.
Requiem
Disclaimer: Trinity Blood belongs to Sunao Yoshida, Gonzo and others.
++++++++++
When the odd sound intrudes for the third time Isaak hesitates, hand raised over the organ keys he listens for intruders but the sound doesn’t fade away or cease in its strange repetition. He finally stands up and crosses the vast floor of the empty cathedral to find its source.
Slumped on the floor of the last section of southern choir stalls, the source reveals itself to be a very drunken Flammenschwert. And the noise appears to be a mixture of hysterical laughter and sobs. Isaak kneels down beside the prone form and ponders what to do about the matter. Radu appears to be muttering to himself and Isaak is surprised when he can make out the mention of Bach’s Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor.
“What about it?” He can’t help but enquire.
“Other girls always planned their weddings; I used to plan my funeral.”
Isaak pauses for a moment before commenting “The Passacaglia and Fugue is an excellent choice.”
“And if anyone suggests the Lacrimosa; shoot them.”
Smiling at the absurdity, Isaak stands up and makes his way back to the organ. Radu is evidently too drunk to realise who he’s talking to or what he’s talking about and by the morning probably won’t even remember the conversation at all.
Not long after the mission in Carthago, Dietrich finds Isaak once again haunting an unoccupied church. Sitting at the organ already, Isaak doesn’t turn at Dietrich’s intrusion but doesn’t begin his performance either.
“Oh? Aren’t you going to play something?”
“Have some respect for the dead, Marionettenspieler.” Comes the mild admonishment.
Dietrich sneers but mockingly genuflects in the direction of the altar before stalking outside as the sound of Bach’s Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor begins to fill the empty building behind him.
Outside, Dietrich leans against the wall, listening.
“You only love them when they’re dead, Isaak. And you say that I’m the perverse one.”
The dead leaves in the churchyard spin upwards, caught in the autumn breeze and Dietrich moves over to the path to stamp the last trail of them down viciously under his heel.
“Wasn’t the pain better than nothing at all, Flammenschwert? Wasn’t it worth it just to be able to feel, to know that you were still alive?”
Lifting his right foot up Dietrich blinks in surprise as a sudden harsh wind steals the last crushed leaf away from him.
“He’d people the world with corpses!” He cries out suddenly into the night, before he turns to go back to his spot leaning against the church wall to wait for Isaak to finish.
The torrent of leaves at his back is a surprise and Dietrich momentarily panics as he instinctively bats them away from his face. The wind is shrill in his ears when he finally manages to make his way back inside the church. He’ll wait inside, he tells himself, because there’s no sense in getting chilled out in the cold. It’s just a matter of pragmatics or so he maintains as he stands just inside the church door; it has nothing at all to do with the fact that it sounds like the wind is laughing at him.
++++++++++
Radu is probably objecting to the “Huic ergo parce, Deus” line of the Lacrimosa verse of the Dies Irae.
And really, there’s just not enough appreciation for J. S. Bach’s Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor.
The matter of memorial.
Requiem
Disclaimer: Trinity Blood belongs to Sunao Yoshida, Gonzo and others.
++++++++++
When the odd sound intrudes for the third time Isaak hesitates, hand raised over the organ keys he listens for intruders but the sound doesn’t fade away or cease in its strange repetition. He finally stands up and crosses the vast floor of the empty cathedral to find its source.
Slumped on the floor of the last section of southern choir stalls, the source reveals itself to be a very drunken Flammenschwert. And the noise appears to be a mixture of hysterical laughter and sobs. Isaak kneels down beside the prone form and ponders what to do about the matter. Radu appears to be muttering to himself and Isaak is surprised when he can make out the mention of Bach’s Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor.
“What about it?” He can’t help but enquire.
“Other girls always planned their weddings; I used to plan my funeral.”
Isaak pauses for a moment before commenting “The Passacaglia and Fugue is an excellent choice.”
“And if anyone suggests the Lacrimosa; shoot them.”
Smiling at the absurdity, Isaak stands up and makes his way back to the organ. Radu is evidently too drunk to realise who he’s talking to or what he’s talking about and by the morning probably won’t even remember the conversation at all.
Not long after the mission in Carthago, Dietrich finds Isaak once again haunting an unoccupied church. Sitting at the organ already, Isaak doesn’t turn at Dietrich’s intrusion but doesn’t begin his performance either.
“Oh? Aren’t you going to play something?”
“Have some respect for the dead, Marionettenspieler.” Comes the mild admonishment.
Dietrich sneers but mockingly genuflects in the direction of the altar before stalking outside as the sound of Bach’s Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor begins to fill the empty building behind him.
Outside, Dietrich leans against the wall, listening.
“You only love them when they’re dead, Isaak. And you say that I’m the perverse one.”
The dead leaves in the churchyard spin upwards, caught in the autumn breeze and Dietrich moves over to the path to stamp the last trail of them down viciously under his heel.
“Wasn’t the pain better than nothing at all, Flammenschwert? Wasn’t it worth it just to be able to feel, to know that you were still alive?”
Lifting his right foot up Dietrich blinks in surprise as a sudden harsh wind steals the last crushed leaf away from him.
“He’d people the world with corpses!” He cries out suddenly into the night, before he turns to go back to his spot leaning against the church wall to wait for Isaak to finish.
The torrent of leaves at his back is a surprise and Dietrich momentarily panics as he instinctively bats them away from his face. The wind is shrill in his ears when he finally manages to make his way back inside the church. He’ll wait inside, he tells himself, because there’s no sense in getting chilled out in the cold. It’s just a matter of pragmatics or so he maintains as he stands just inside the church door; it has nothing at all to do with the fact that it sounds like the wind is laughing at him.
++++++++++
Radu is probably objecting to the “Huic ergo parce, Deus” line of the Lacrimosa verse of the Dies Irae.
And really, there’s just not enough appreciation for J. S. Bach’s Passacaglia and Fugue in C Minor.