Symphony [Soccer Elves]
i scream
aaaaAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THESE OCS THEY ARE LOVE THEY ARE LIFE,
(basically another request from a friend, ceej!! ;9 you got the song Symphony by Clean Bandit ft. Zara. which is brilliant. im crying)
ENJOY
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Aeron has always been more of a dancer, a performer, than an actual soccer player.
(And the only reason he plays well in the first place is because of Sidus and Carnis’s support, and that playing in a stadium in front of a crowd feels no different than dancing on a stage in front of an audience.)
He likes to dance the traditional elven dances for the people, he likes to practice the contemporary modern moves, and he even likes trying the classical human dances just for kicks.
He especially likes the dances he has with his friends.
(Because they oh-so-easily create symphonies within his mind.)
When he dances with Carnis, he hears sweet bass and fast drumbeats in his ears. Their steps are quick, wild, their hands and arms flying everywhere and on each other as they twist and turn so fast it feels like their necks are breaking. And the laughter. God, the laughter. It echoes in every inch of his bones, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake, and it follows him long after they reluctantly separate to each of their homes.
(Dancing with Carnis is like running with the Sun in a garden full of tulips and roses.)
When he finally manages to coax Sidus to dance with him, he hears soft flutes and a strong piano, with the occasional vibrations of a cello. He decides to teach the shorter elf the human dance of waltz and, as expected, his toes get stepped on a lot and they trip a few times too many. Sidus keeps apologizing and asking him to just stop this ridiculousness. But Aeron is stubborn. He continues to lead and teach, and occasionally laughing together with Sidus over a particularly bad blunder, which makes flowers grow inside his heart and and in-between his fingers—where they hold onto Sidus’ own tightly.
(Dancing with Sidus is like floating in an empty lake, the waters gently holding you and only occasionally a wave will come to disturb the calm, but it never truly bothers you.)
So, dancing is his life. He lives to entertain the crowd, to make people happy with his fluid or sharp moves. He lives to follow the rhythm of the music, of hearing the symphonies. He likes to live it with his friends, with the people he cares about the most, and find joy in it with them.
But then... Carnis disappears.
For a time, his symphonies are silent.
Aeron tries to dance, to relieve the stress of playing soccer, of being the ace striker, or missing Carnis and of wanting to make Sidus proud.
Except for some simple moves (an arch with his arm, a twist of his neck and hips) he can’t make his limbs follow his routine. His hands land on empty spaces, his feet refuse to lift from the ground, and the space around him feels so unnaturally cold.
He stops dancing for a while.
He focuses on soccer. He focuses on practice, practice, and more practice. He perfects his shoots, his passes, his goals. He pushes himself hard enough there are days he can barely move and finds himself asleep on the pitch.
And then, Carnis comes back.
For a moment, he’s ecstatic. He swears he hears trumpets, harps, and violins and any other magical instrument he knows that make beautiful music when he sees her, safe and well.
Then, he tries to get ‘Carnis’ to dance with him.
And that’s when he knows.
This isn’t Carnis. Not really.
His hands find their usual place around her, their bodies fit perfectly together, but her movements are not the same, not quite. From an outsider’s point of view, they look like they are dancing like they usually do. But Aeron can tell it’s different. He should know—he’s the one who has danced with her all their lives.
Dancing with this... new Carnis, makes him hear war cries and crashing drums. There are moments where he’s in control, and there are moments where he’s only made to feel in control, and moments where he is not in control at all. They twist, they turn as they usually do, but it’s more forceful, more provoking and much less casual. There is no laughter. There are smiles from her, but it’s different. It feels... darker. Her grip on him leaves bruises on his skin, and his on hers, and they continue this thing he refuses to call a dance until they are both no longer moving.
(Dancing with Tonneli is like going against against a tsunami. Aeron tries to fight, tries to hold onto his ground, but sometimes... sometimes he decides to let this being inside her body sweep him away. Sometimes he hopes it drowns him.)
Maybe one day the symphonies will be the same again. Maybe they can practice it to make it work. Maybe it won’t take too long, maybe it won’t hurt as much anymore.
But Aeron knows his dances will never be the same again.
Not truly.