Ignorance is Bliss | By : Khaleesi-Of-Dragons Category: M through R > Once Upon A Time Views: 2317 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Any and all songs used belong to their respective owners. |
The song Morgan sings is called Roses of May from Final Fantasy IX, the lyrics written by Erutan. This one is just a filler chapter to get the play out of the way, so we can get back to the real plot. I know it seems fast, but this is set a few weeks after "Family Business" and you have to remember that they've been practicing since the start of this—so a few months in the long run.
I take a deep breath, climbing the stairs up the stage and then walking up to the mike stand, hands clasped in front of me. What a time for nervous jitters to hit me the second I'm supposed to begin singing. Micah, Nicky, and the rest of my family sit in the front row, Henry giving me a thumbs up and the rest of them giving me encouraging smile. Okay, Morgan, just get this over with, then you can change into jeans and rejoin your family. The music begins to play, soft and elf-like in its soothing notes.
"Her heart underneath cries quietly, this part of me I choose not to see. What lives must I take for fealty's sake? How much blood must stain this warrior's blade? War leaves its trail in moonlight so pale. Its shadows they flow in rivers and rivers, so put on my mask, I'll go where they ask, so I might once again see the roses of May," I sing along, my voice as soft as the instruments. "Staining my soul and stinging my eyes, the red on my hands won't wash away, wash away. Nowhere to run from what I have done, I'm no longer, no longer a rose of May. Fate holds the blade before you, mirrored in maiden's eyes. Far from myself I fly into the perilous skies, and they said follow the blade before you—fear fall and courage rise. Leave all your tears behind you far from where innocence lies.
"Cage of the kings, no need for wings, so turn them to stone from roses to bone. When you look at me, what do you see? This costume I weave disfiguring me. War leaves its trail in moonlight so pale, its shadows they flow in rivers and rivers, so put on my mask, I'll go where they ask, so I might once again see the roses of May. Staining my soul and stinging my eyes, the red on my hands won't wash away, wash away. Nowhere to run from what I have done, I'm no longer, no longer a rose of May. Storm clouds are creeping closer, danger is drawing near. Why am I not protecting all that I once held dear? And you said break free from all that holds you—king's hand and maiden's tear run now into my arms, together we'll conquer our fears.
"Led here by fate, no longer afraid, so here now I lay my roses of May," I finish, opening my eyes when I hear the polite applause. After a quick curtsey, I scramble backstage to our dressing stalls, pealing the dress off and pulling on a pair of jeans and clean shirt before grabbing my bag and taking up my seat between Papa and Emma.
"You did fantastically," Papa tells me as our actors file back on stage to resume Sweeney Todd. "And now you can relax since all of this is over."
"Yeah," I breathe," unless Micah tricks me into helping him with his next idea."
"What's that," Emma asks, looking genuinely interested.
"Oklahoma." She nods, all of our attention moving back to the stage as Sweeney brandishes his razor and prepares to "kill" his customer. I slouch in my seat, picking at a loose thread on my ripped jeans until Papa covers my hand with his, giving it a squeeze. I smile, resting my head on his shoulder as the play proceeds. Exhaustion pulls at me, my sore eyes begging me to just close them for a moment. After all the excitement lately, I've been lacking in sleep and now that's caught up to me. With a yawn, I close my eyes, listening as Carmichael and Bennett do their Sweeney/Lovett song.
The next thing I know, sudden applause is jerking me out of a dream about talking cookies and cannibal ducks. I straighten up, lending my own noise to the applause, trying to look as though I've been awake this entire time. "Come on, Morgan, let's get you home to bed."
"Allow me," Dad says, already standing in front of me with his hand outstretched. I let him pull me to my feet, letting out a surprised squeak when he picks me up in his arms, one hand supporting my back while the other went under my knees. "We can't have our star falling on the way out of the theater." I smack his chest lightly before snuggling as close to him as I can for warmth.
"You're a goof," I murmur to him before falling back into a sleep blissfully lacking anything abnormal for once—no cannibal ducks, no talking cookies, just a sweet blackness and rest.
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