A Waltz in the Dark (Norway + OC Hetalia fanfiction)

Chapter 18

    Norway showed her around, but nothing sparked her interest until they got to the music hall.
    “Wow!” Mary exclaimed, stepping further into the room. Norway switched on the lights. The room had high ceilings and white walls, which were lined with bookshelves that held all kinds of different music and theory books. There were several different kinds of stringed and percussion instruments sitting around the room. Norway walked over to the opposite wall, where his violin was lying on a table in it’s case, like it was on display. He took it out and plucked the strings. It was already in tune. He made a mental note to thank Rolf later for doing such an excellent job.
    And then piano music began to fill the air. Norway whirled around to see Mary sitting at the grand piano that was in the middle of the room, where the lights were brightest. She stopped suddenly and looked back at him.
    “Sorry, I forgot to ask if I could,” she said, standing up.
    “You’re fine. Go ahead,” he said, picking up the bow from the case. She sat down again and looked at the keys. Norway slowly walked over to the piano, wondering if he remembered how to play the Peer Gynt Suite after all this time. He wondered if he could even play the violin anymore. It’d been years.
    Mary began to play again, and Norway looked at her as he came to stand next to the piano. The song she played sounded familiar, but he couldn’t recall where he’d heard it before. He looked at her fingers which glided across the keys. She looked up at him and smiled.
    And then she began to sing.
    “I don’t like walking around this old and empty house…”
    And then it hit him. It was Little Talks from the popular Icelandic band Of Monsters and Men. Norway exhaled deeply. He had listened to that album on repeat when it came out.
    “The stairs creak as you sleep, it’s keeping me awake…” she went on, her voice a beautiful soprano.
    “It’s the house telling you to close your eyes,” he sang the male part quietly, lifting the violin to his chin and raising the bow.
    “Some days I can’t even trust myself…”
    “It’s killing me to see you this way,” he murmured as he slid the bow across the strings, playing the basic melody along with her.
    “‘Cause though the truth may vary this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore,” they sang together. And then, feeling brave for a moment, he swung the bow a little faster and played a quick improvisation on top of the piano melody.
    They played together for a minute and as the song went on, Norway’s fingers began to remember, and the tune he played became more and more complicated; his fingers could barely keep up. He loved the wonderful thrill it gave him. And it sounded absolutely beautiful. Mary was a gifted accompanist.
    But then the second verse came.
    “There’s an old voice in my head that’s holding me back,” she sang.
    Norway thought of his ghost.
    “Well, tell her that I miss our little talks…”
    “Soon it will be over and buried with our past.”
    “We used to play outside when we were young and full of life and full of love.”
    He suddenly thought of Iceland, where this song had come from.
    “Somedays I don’t know if I am all right.”
    He missed a beat and played a wrong note. He lowered the violin.
    “Your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear,” but his voice broke.
    His heart felt like it was being squeezed inside his chest.
    He abruptly walked back over to the case and hurriedly put the violin and the bow away, his eyesight blurred.
    The water overflowed his eyes and Norway swiped at his cheeks in confusion. He wasn’t sad, why was he crying? He wiped the tears from his eyes quickly but they kept coming.
    Vhat is vrong vith me?!
    He closed the violin case and picked it up. And then Mary stopped playing, plunging the room into silence. Norway headed toward the door, making sure she couldn’t see his face.
    “Professor?” she called. He heard the piano bench scoot back and her footfalls as she walked toward him.
    “I-I’ll be r-right back,” he said.
    “What’s wrong?”
    He wanted to reply, but there was a lump in his throat, and if he spoke, he’d give himself away. And that would be embarrassing because he didn’t even know why he was suddenly so emotional.
    “Professor?”
    She was right behind him. He burst into a run, exiting the room and charging down the hall.


   
    *



    “Professor?” Mary called again, running to the doorway, just in time to see him disappear around the corner.
    She would go after him, but she’d probably just get lost in the twisting corridors of the humongous house. She sighed with frustration. But he shouldn’t be alone if he’s upset... He thought she hadn’t heard, but she noticed when his voice cracked. But she hadn’t known what to say or do, so she kept playing. And she had seen the water in his eyes just now.
    His PTSD was worse here. Did this house bring back memories? Perhaps the song they played?
    Mary thought about how he had just joined right in with her and smiled slightly. He had a nice voice, and he played the violin beautifully. They were having a good time, until…
    She sighed again and turned away from the doorway. But then she heard footsteps. She whirled around and looked back into the hallway.
    But it was only little Ruth and her older brother, Alf. Mary smiled at them.
    “Hello,” she greeted them.
    “I heard yu pway,” Ruth said with her adorable accent. Mary’s smile widened.
    “Did you like it?”
    The little girl nodded, as did Alf.
    “I could play something for you guys if you want,” Mary said as they entered the room. Ruth nodded enthusiastically, reaching for her hand. Mary’s heart felt like it was going to burst from the adorableness as she and Ruth walked toward the piano, Alf right behind them.
    “Can yu pway Wet It Go from Froozen?” Ruth asked as they both sat down on the piano bench. Mary chuckled.
    “Ja! But, first, can I ask you both something?”  she glanced from Ruth to Alf. “Did you see Professor Bondevik go by?”
    They both nodded, solemnly.
    “Does he always… I mean, is he like… that… all the time?”
    Alf shrugged.
    “He’s not around a lot,” he replied. “He has a lot of vork. But… he’s alvays been veird.”
    “Ja, veird,” Ruth joined in. Mary couldn’t help but smirk.
    “All right, well… anyway…” she took a deep breath and then played a chord.
    “Wet it gooo…! Wet it gooooo…!”