Dubita che le stelle siano fuoco...
Dubita che il sole si muova...
Dubita che la verità sia mentitrice...
Ma non dubitare mai del mio amore.
- Shakespeare
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Doubt thou the stars are fire,
Doubt the sun doth move,
Doubt truth to be a liar
but never doubt thy love.
- Shakespeare
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Songbird
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"Mi piacerebbe molto una tazza di caffè, grazie?" he asked, sending the waiter off to fetch the ordered cup of coffee. He did not need to wait long to be rewarded.
"Eccolo."
"Grazie," he thanked, taking the cup up to his lips to sip it carefully while laying down the required money for the lad as payment. He made sure there was a generous tip for the young boy who couldn't have been more than fourteen.
His coffee was enjoyable, that was sure, but this little corner cafe' held no interest for someone as easily distracted as him. He needed something new in front of him ever three minuets or else he would become horribly bored. That's how his life was and always has been. That's how his art was and always would be. Fleeting, never there for too long. If you hold onto something for too long, no matter what it is, it will loose beauty for you eventually. That's what he believed. Oh, but how he wished to be proven wrong.
Standing up, he secured his coat and tippe his head towards the owner before exiting the cafe'.
"Grazie! Passate a trovarci di nuovo per piacere."
The young blond nodded back to the elderly owner of the restaurant as he was thanked and asked to stop by again. Italian was his second language, so the translation was hardly an effort for the young blond.
Not wanting to appear too impolite, he turned and gave the smiling man with a wrinkled face a smile of his own accompanied by a wave. He didn't really need his knowledge of the romantic language to know the man was a welcoming kind of person.
"Si, Signore."
Walking down the cobblestone streets, the weather of Venice wrapper her people tightly in a damp mist that suppressed visibility a great deal for those who found themselves outside. It was an eerie sight to be caught up in. The streets at twilight looked like something out of a mythological realm, with the streetlights glowing over the lapping waves and the dampened sidewalk.
Taking in his surroundings, Deidara could have sworn he had stepped out into some haunted land of enchantment, and not the glowing streets of her father's beloved country as he passed a mask maker's shop. The two black holes of a Bauta mask stared back at him, the empty void in it's eyes far too apparent to be comforting. The mascherari smiled at Deidara through the window, reminding the blond of an aged wizard, adapt in spells and forbidden knowledge. This place really did fell like a land of haunted magic to him. Maybe it was. Though he really couldn't say that since he never visited a haunted land, much less one filled with enchantment.
While his father was Italian his mother was a German beauty, thus explaining his blond-blue eyed appearance. With his mother and father he had been raised in a English home in Liverpool England. Though his family did own a cottage is Glastonbury that served as a summer home whenever the weather became too tiresome. After his father's sudden death, his mother had urger her only son to see the land his father had loved so much.
A young couple ran past him, giggling madly in gay merriment, oblivious to the world and all that was in it. They had eyes only for one another, or so it appeared. They seemed far too happy to have been together too long, but then that was only his view of the picture as they ducked into a bookstore. Did love ever really last? Aside from his mother and father, love remained unproven in his eyes.
Already at the age of twenty one, and completely single, Deidara had guessed this vacation was another one of her plans to find him a pretty wife. It would't be the first. That woman was relentless.
Deidara was an artist as well as an heir to a great fortune, so all his life was pretty much a vacation. Though, he had to admit he didn't get around a lot. His mother would take him back to Germany ever other year and he would visit friends in France now and then, but other than that, his world was confined to his relaxing estate in Liverpool England and the cottage in Glastonbury. No real work awaited his attention for quite some time. His father's funeral the only exception in the past month.
Thinking of the loving father Deidara let his body come to a halt.
His father.
The thought of the man that was always busy with work brought sadness to his face. It was true his father was a busy man, investing in this and that so that he could leave behind something grand for his beloved child. However, when he did find those moments he could give to his son, Deidara was never disappointed. They had loved each other greatly.
One thing his father used to speak to him about with gusto and great detail, was the love he harbored for his homeland. Deidara's father was mostly Italian with a German grandfather on his mother's side, and fiercely proud of it. The older man would spend hours with his son telling of the festivals of Venice and the win orchards nestled deep in Sicily. He would go on and on with laughter and delight in his eyes as he conveyed his love of his motherland to his son.
Naturally after hearing so much from his father, Deidara was eager to see this place, however he had wanted to go with his father once he recovered from his lung sickness. With the passing of the beloved man, Deidara decided to go by himself and see what was so grand about this European country.
And so, that explained why he was here now...walking the streets...taking in the sights...spending his time.
Deidara reached out and touched a nearby light pole and shivered as the tips of his fingers met the cold metal that was wet from the mist. It was a pleasant feeling, despite how numb it turned his fingers.Anywhere else, this would have been unpleasant, but here it felt so in place he couldn't help but enjoy it.
"Magic? Maybe."
With a small smile, Deidara let his blue eyes fall closed as he breathed in the salty sea air. It was such a calming smell all of a sudden. His father was right, this really was a wonderful place.
His eyes snapped open at the sound of a maiden's voice.
No, it was an angel's voice.
Forsaking his position at the side of the chilling lamppost, Deidara began to hastily pace towards the source of the heavenly sound. The silky melody spilled into his mind, controlling him.
Following the path before him in an increasing speed, a feeling of desperation fills every part of his body. His heart can't help but beat madly against the chest that holds it back. Skidding into a open square with only a few people present- most minding their own business- Deidara can't help but let his breath be stolen away.
The voice, singing in pureness, calms and begins to form words, adding the the enjoyment of a awe struck blond male.
Water lapping sweet and cool, in the evening light
Fairies dancing through the mist, reigning in the night
Magic here makes her peace, for Venice at twilight
Lions guard the sinking city,
Wings are carved of stone
The dangers and the magic,
To them are too well know
Waves dragging down, pulling towards the deep
Dangers are birthing as the child sleeps
There was still mist here, rolling in from the overlapping waves, adding to the eerie affect this siren was spinning with her words. He couldn't see her completely, due to mist and their distance, but, what he could see had him gasping in disbelief.
An angel no more than 5' 4'' stood on the edge of a fountain with a shabbily dressed violinist adding to her voice. The one who controlled the violin played a very minor role in the performance, effectively blending into the gray background with his smoky silver hair and highly positioned scarf of smoky gray. No one was looking at him. Truly, who would when such a frighteningly beautiful sight was before them.
Her rosette hair had a healthy sheen to it and looked soft to the touch. It hung in waves of elegance just below her tiny, doll like, shoulders. Her hands, tiny and delicate, moved slightly as she poured her melodious opera worthy voice out into the twilight. One rested on her abdomen, moving as she forced air out of her lungs for her notes, while the other waved as it pleased, letting the pear bracelet slid back and forth.
She was clothed in a ankle length dress of milky white that complemented her surroundings, making her appear as if she were a phantom dipping in and out of the mist. Her body would move occasionally as she glided around the rim of the fountain she stood upon. Her shoulders were mostly bare, as the sleeves hung to the sides of her arms, complementing the pearl strung choker that hung around her neck. Physically, she appeared slim and dainty, adding to her doll like apperance.
To Deidara, she looked as if she could break at any moment. The though only sped up the rapid heartbeat that hammered like a hummingbird's. He felt an overwhelming urge-no! A need to protect her. A need to protect this little, singing doll.
Water lapping sweet and cool, in the evening light
Fairies dancing through the mist, reigning in the night
Magic here makes her peace, for Venice at twilight
Venice my land of dreams
With desires birthing in our sleep
She breathed in deeply before letting her voice flow into the next verse, her chest swelling the fill her lungs with enough air. This was when Deidara became aware that he was not the only male present to watch the lovely young songbird. Far from it, to be more accurate. Weather she sang her enough to leave a pattern to her comings or these regular joes were pulled in by chance like he was, they were just as rapt in her sang as he was. If not her song, her beauty.
a foreign feeling of possession flooded the young Englishmen as another male took a steep closer to the singing woman. It was true, the while lost in her song all he could see was her, but in seeing her, he saw those surrounding her. He didn't like the looks some of them were sending the young beauty and liked even less the fact that they were closer to her than he was.
Without taking his eyes off her, he took a steep forward, being unable to go much further in fear of breaking the heavy aura of magic that surrounded her as she sang and danced like a luring ghost. It was even stronger with the first steep, and he dared not trespass any further, in fear of disrupting the magical barrier that seemed to cling to her form.
Was is it even possible for any human being to be this alluring? He doubted it. Maybe she wasn't human. Maybe she was a angel, taunting mortal men, or even a fairy, as unbelievable as that sounded. She sang of magic, she very well could be made of magic, she seemed so unearthly.
Oh ohh ohhhhh
Trapped forever in this land of song
Singing for me loud and strong
The magic of the mist pulls me along
Keeping me safe where I belong
Reddened sun dying in the sky
Angels voices begin to rise
Clouds blushing in goodbyes
Adventure begins to arise
Deidara felt his knees grow week as an unknown feeling filled his body.What was her music doing to him? It was unlike anything ever encountered. It was unknown and...frightening. It was ridicules that a stranger- a girl whose name he did not know- had such a powerful effect upon him. What was she doing to him.
Letting her lips move in a certain way, the pink haired girl archer her neck, before bending it to one side, making the blond bite the inside of his cheek. There was no way this woman could be mortal. Surly she was some sort of heaven sent angel, a siren in human form. Never had his sky stained eyes witnesses such a beauty.
He watched as she shifted her body once more, walking over to the other side of the fountain, trialling on hand through the water. The cold must have startled her in some small way, since she opened her eyes wide for the first time to revile a dazzling set of jade colored orbs, framed by darkly curled lashes. Those eyes screamed so many emotions all at once as they opened themselves up to the world. They were powerful, frightening, and terrible as the locked onto his own, killing the last bit of his self control.
He needed to know her name. It was an urge that surprised him only faintly. He dared not question these emotions, realizing something this strong was too important to ignore like he wished he could have.
He took a steep forward, wanting to be closer to his siren as she sang.
He needed to be beside her.
The tempo of the violinist's playing increased as his strings cried out in an increased shrill as the young maiden approached the climax of her song. Her eyes were wide to the world and her hands spread out like an angel's wings. She was frightening and beautiful at the same time.
Ohhh...
Water lapping sweet and cool, in the evening light
Fairies dancing through the mist, reigning in the night
Magic here makes her peace, for Venice at twilight...
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A clap of thunder and a strong wind forced his eyes closed for only a moment. When he opened them...
She was gone
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La ricchezza del mio cuore è infinita come il mare,
Così profondo il mio amore...
Più te ne do, più ne ho,
Perché entrambi sono infiniti.
-Shakespeare
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My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep...
The more I give to thee, the more I have,
For both are infinite.
- Shakespeare-
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