Chapter Text
Nobody ever sees what goes on in the orchestra pit. All of the credit is handed to the conductor firsthand on the orchestra’s behalf, often dismissing all of the small working parts that brings a composer's brain child to life. You of all people should know this, you’ve played for years.
It felt rather useless to perform in a large empty hall, the dancers performing with unfinished props in the background. The auditorium filled with the scent of paint and matte finish, the sign that a long day of rehearsal had finally come to a close.
“God..” you laugh, placing your instrument away “ that was terrible”
‘Tchaiskovsky’s rolling in his grave’ you’d often joke as you rode home from rehearsals. It was your first time playing for the nutcracker ballet, er, at least a production of it this size. Everyone you knew was eager for opening night, often asking if you could get spots reserved for them. And honestly, telling them was a big mistake. The pressure was most certainly getting to you, and maybe a good old fashioned nap would make things better…
But it had other plans.
Where the welcome mat was usually placed, a small box sat at the foot of the door. Snowflakes falling onto its neatly tied red bow. Drops of water from the porch light dripping onto the address card attached to the side.
You DEFINITELY didn’t order this. Maybe it belongs to your roommate? Naw, he was out of town visiting family. Something didn’t sit right with you at the thought of just leaving it there. So you did the only thing that made sense, and took it inside.
You stepped inside and took off your coat, thoughtlessly tossing it onto the coat rack as you sat down on the coach, placing the box next to you.
“What the hell am I supposed to do now?” you think out loud “ i already bought this thing inside, i'm already in trouble if this isn’t mine…”
You take off your gloves and pick up the address label, the ink on it beginning to smear from the cold wet snow.
/Congrats on your first performance of the nutcracker ballet. I'm terribly sorry I wasn't able to attend, so I decided to get you something to commemorate the occasion. /
You couldn’t read the rest of the letter, the ink that made up the rest of the contents stained your fingers. But if there was one thing that was for certain, whoever sent out this package, ment it for you and not Asriel.
You grabbed the ends of the bow and tugged, the red ribbon gracefully unknotting itself and dropping to the couch cushion. The gray box reflected the small lamp above as you removed the lid, revealing an antique surrounded by tissue paper.
And there he was.
You pitied him, his cracked limbs, his missing parts, his bi-colored glasses cracked at the lenses. Somewhere in those small oval eyes you could’ve sworn there was a glint of light in them, this was definitely an unexpected gift.
“What happened to you little guy?” you wonder, rubbing your finger over the ripped part of his uniform.
What to do with him? for some reason you didn’t want to get rid of the little toy soldier, but he also wasn’t considered the best decoration for your apartment. You couldn't just stuff him in a closet somewhere or something like that. He already had been collecting a lot of dust. Maybe, you could fix him.
And that’s exactly what you did
The next few weeks you sort of made it a hobby of yours to fix up the toy soldier, watching tutorials, gathering supplies, asking the set crew advice. Every night after rehearsal you’d sit on your couch, reading through your sheet music as you hand stitched his uniform together.
A small part of his chest had a lighter color to it. Perhaps there was a missing part to it that got lost in the mail. At this point you’ve been working on him for about a week, his arms were now reattached to his shoulders, his legs repainted with a glossy finish, looking as if time hadn’t touched them at all. His face, now glimmering in the carefully placed lamp behind you, was nearly restored to its original state. However there still was a large crack in one of the lenses in his glasses. You had no idea how to fix it, you were pretty new to this, and nobody’s perfect after all.
“Not too shabby little guy…” you say, running your finger on his porcelain cheek “you’ll make the place a lot more festive”
It was pretty late, and opening night was in two days. Asriel had just texted you to send a picture of the latest build he had been working on, apparently he wanted to show it to his sibling kris. You placed the toy soldier on the couch cushion and walked over to the desktop.
“I gotta say” you pull out your phone and ready the camera “for just starting out azzy’s made a pretty cool game-”
THUD
Oh shit. Without a second thought you stuff your phone in your pocket and rush over to the couch, the toy soldier was nowhere in sight.
“Dammitdammitdammitdammit” you mutter, throwing pillows and blankets onto the floor, nearly tearing apart the living room to find him.
You put way too much effort into the puppet just to lose him, or worse, to break him. You get down on the floor and try to see if he had fallen under the couch. You turn to pull out your phone flashlight, when a loud creak goes off behind you, the power clicking off in an instant. There's no way in hell that’s Asriel.
Do you move? Do you stay put? Was somebody inside?
“HEY!” you yell “ I KNOW YOUR HERE!”
No response. Maybe it was the wind?
You quietly stand, cautiously looking around the apartment to see if anyone was there. The old floorboards creak as you walk. It was dark. It was cold. You couldn’t see a thing. There it was again. It's louder. Louder. Louder. A cold breath was behind you. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t…do….anything.
The lights flicker back on without warning. A way of relief came upon you, guess everything was alright.
“Damn…” you mumble “ I gotta talk to the electrician about that”
You walk to the kitchen pantry and pull out a box full of teabags, and put a kettle on the stove. Considering that the power and the heater had gone out in the middle of December, a nice calming cup of tea was probably a good idea.
You pull out your sheet music and script for the ballet coming up and read through it. Occasionally highlighting parts that you needed to work on, coming to a passage that seemed familiar.
-Clara wakes to see that the nutcracker was gone-
-she walks from stage left to stage right, trying to find her missing doll-
-a strange sound could be heard from behind her, she turns to see
The kettle emits a loud whistling sound, letting you know the tea is ready. You put the sheets of paper into your music folder and pour the tea from the kettle to a cup. You caught sight of a small glint of light in the corner of your eye. You grab your cup and walk over to the couch, the source of it was just behind it. You peer over to see that it was the little toy soldier.
“There you are!” you quickly place your cup onto the coffee table and carefully grab the puppet.
It was so bizarre, even though it had fallen, there wasn’t a single broken part. All the work you’ve done was perfectly preserved, it was strange.
“Guess you got lucky,” you say as you examine him, that same glint in his eyes was there, still looking back at you. You put the toy soldier on the coffee table and put on a show, quietly drifting off into sleep…
…yet you could've sworn something moved