Maestro Fortescu: Part One (complete)

When I was very young, a fortune-teller once told me that I was running on stolen luck. Back then, I never understood what she meant, but looking at my life now that I am older, I think I get her drift. 

I was abandoned as a baby, left out in the rain near the stables of the royal palace. I was found by the stable boy, who took me to his parents. The next day, the Queen came out to see the baby that was left behind, and when she took me into her arms, she knew right away that she was meant for me. I was raised a princess, doted on by my mother and fathers. My big brother, Ludovico, watched over me as well, although I grew up to be a bit tougher than he was. 

I was lucky, and it never occured to me that it was stolen fortune. I was just happy living with my family, all of whom I loved. Here in Miror, luck has magical properties, and it isn’t something you want to go around having stolen. It’s like the joker card. It can be wild, and how it treats you is all its own decision. My family told me to ignore the fortune-teller, that my luck was all my own and my luck brought me here. Still, I often think of that woman clad in purple and wonder what she knew about me.

As I grew up, I discovered a penchant for music. I enjoyed writing music, playing it, singing, just about anything. My parents noticed my growing talents and passion, so they decided to let me become a pupil of the Maestro. 

The Maestro was a strange man, but someone important to the entire palace. He was the one who composed all the music for the royal court. He wrote the operas that my grandmother, Merah Muda, loved so much. He wrote the wedding music for my mother and fathers. He was also responsible for selecting the members of royal orchestra, making sure it was filled with the best musicians in all of Miror. He was a genius, able to play instruments and write music from the time he was born - at least, that’s how the legends go.

Merah Muda hired him on when she first became queen. She had been so enchanted by his music and skill that she wanted to make sure such a visionary was well taken care of. Ever since, he has lived in the palace, although he is a bit of a recluse. He only comes out once in a while, and it’s the sort of event that Ludo and I keep track of. Ludo is scared of him, but I was always extremely curious. 

I found out where the entrance to his chambers were, and I would watch it carefully. I sometimes even placed tape or a ribbon on the door to find out whether he left by it. Whenever I was able to catch him coming from his quarters, I would follow him around. More often than not, I annoyed the crap out of him. He wasn’t afraid to snap at me or threaten me. I was never scared of him; I was much too curious to ever really be afraid.

Becoming his pupil was one of the most exciting events of my life. I would get to spend time with him, work with him, and he would have no choice but to be around me. 

“You’re a spoiled brat,” he snapped at me at the start of our first lesson. “That is the only reason you are here. You like music? You like banging on your father’s shield like a drum? You call that music?” he spat. “You are nothing but a privileged child.” He jabbed a long finger in my face. It was the first time I ever noticed he had extra joints in his fingers.

The Maestro was an imposing figure, not just because of his foul attitude, but because of, well, just everything about him. Ludo likened him to the images of Death we often saw in picture books or in old paintings. He was this ageless, eternal being who had always existed and probably would long after we were gone. I wasn’t sure if he really was, but rumors can create any sort of mystique around a person. The Maestro always wore black, and no matter the situation or celebration, he was always garbed in the richest of black clothing. He barely showed any skin, or what was under his clothing. He wore a mask at all times. He had many different ones, but the one he was usually seen in was fashioned of weighty metal. The dull sheen of its surface was covered with deep engravings, intricate details that coiled all around like vines. The eyeholes looked hollow and black, and the open mouth was sealed with a crisscrossing lattice. He was not the sort of figure one wanted to pass in the middle of the night.

“I am only teaching you because of my duty to the royal family,” he scoffed at me as he withdrew his hand. His arms crossed behind his back, and his shoulders went stiff, curving back slightly. “You are so spoiled you even finagled your way into the royal family.”

I frowned up at him. I had heard a lot of vicious gossip about my lineage and how I was not a true royal. His words were nothing new, but they were bitter to me all the same.

“You will receive no special treatment from me - aside from being allowed my tutelage,” he chuckled. “But!” He held a finger high in the air. “I can just as easily end all of this. If you do not take this seriously, it will be the biggest offense you can throw at me.”

I was young then, and too afraid to talk back to anyone. That changed as I grew older. I learned to argue brilliantly. Having taken debating classes with my fathers, I could dish it out with the best of them. It soon became one of my favorite pastimes to aggravate the living hell out of the Maestro.

At this point, I had learned the Maestro’s real name was Fortescu. He hated anyone using it, so of course, I used it all the time. I was still under his tutelage, no matter how heated our arguments got, and as long as I respected the music, I don’t think he was ever going to get rid of me.

On my twenty-first birthday, I am getting fitted for my dress. My mother picked out every single detail for me, making sure it would suit every part of me. Being a unicorn, I have always loved beauty. I suppose I am spoiled, but I know my limits, so I never ask for too much, except when it comes to clothes. My mother knows this, so she spared no expense in commissioning this dress. 

“I even had a matching one made for your other form,” she tells me as she brushes my hair. “That way, you can wear it no matter how you feel.”

“Oh, Mama, thank you!” I say as I clutch the dress to my chest. It looks like frothy pastel icing, whipped up into fluffy curls, splashes, and clouds. It fades down into a very pale blue at the waist, where it spills out like petals cascading from a bush. 

“Anything for you, my darling.” She kisses the top of my head. “You’d best rest up now. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

“I’m far too excited to rest,” I sigh. “I cannot wait for everyone to see me in this dress.” I pose in front of the mirror, holding the dress up against my body. It matches the faint pink hue of my skin and the silvery blue sheen of my horn. My platinum hair hangs down my shoulders, but this evening, it will be styled in an abundance of curls. 

There is a knock at the door, and one of the white rabbits comes in. “Maestro is calling for you, Princess,” they say with a bow. “He says you are late for your lesson.”

“Lesson?” my mother chuckles. “It is her birthday! Surely he was not planning on having a lesson today?”

I scowl and set my new dress aside. “No. He would,” I grumble. I slip on a robe and fasten the belt tight around my waist.

“You’re going?” my mother asks.

“If I don’t show up, that will only give him the satisfaction of being rid of me.” I untuck my hair from under the collar of the robe. “I will not let him have even an ounce of it.”

I make my way to the music room, where I can already hear Fortescu pounding away at the piano. He screams in frustration, banging on the keys before returning to playing the melody he’s attempting to compose.

I step inside and slam the door shut behind me.

Fortescu doesn’t look up from the keys. “About time you showed up!”

“It is my birthday,” I growl, folding my arms tightly across my chest.

“That is no excuse. At a certain point, it is ridiculous to celebrate such a thing. You are far too old for such a thing, anyway. Aren’t you given anything you desire? Why should a birthday be special, then?” He slams his hands down on the keys again, snarls in a language I don’t understand, then goes back to the beginning of the piece. “Besides,” he sighs. “No one even knows when your birthday actually is.”

I clench my jaw and bite down on my tongue. 

“What is the point of celebrating it?” he chuckles.

“It’s not just for me,” I grumble, “but for my family.”

“Ah, yes, a pat on the back for rescuing you,” Fortescu replies. “I suppose charity should always be rewarded in some way.”

“Are you going to keep talking?” I bark at him. “I’m here for my lesson, so let’s just get it over with.”

He looks up from the piano. “You are not dressed for your lesson.”

“I can sing in this,” I snap back. “What does it matter what I am wearing as long as I am here? I thought you didn’t care for such vain things, anyway.”

“It is a matter of respect, Princess,” he hisses. The music glides from him easily as we argue. “You should arrive to classes looking as if you’re happy to be here. Not as if they are something you do between beauty regimens.”

I walk over to the piano and glare down at him. “I hate the color black,” I whisper to him. “I find it offensive. You should at least dress like you are coming to teach, not going to mourn.”

“Oh, but I am mourning, Princess!” He starts to laugh. “I am mourning for the state music shall be in when you are taken seriously as a musician!”

“People come from all around to hear me sing!” I scoff at him. “I travel all over Miror because that is what the people want! I sing your songs, and yet they call them mine. How does that make you feel?”

“It makes me want to destroy them!” He continues playing his music without a false note, even as he stands up to tower over me. “Hearing you sing my songs is horrible, but hearing people praise you as if you gave them life makes me want to die!”

“Then do it! There are a dozen ways to die in this room alone! Here,” I storm over to the window and fling it open. “Go ahead! Jump on out! I’ll be sure to sing at your funeral, since it will be a happy occasion!”

Fortescu kicks away the seat, continuing to play with so much fervor and passion, I fear he might erupt into flames. He then suddenly stops, wrenching himself away from the keyboard with panting breaths. He seems stunned for a moment, staying silent as he looks up slowly to where I stand at the window.

I tilt my chin up and swallow my heart back down into my chest. I don’t know why, but I have suddenly become aroused under his gaze. I place an arm over my chest as I feel his eyes boring into me.

“You have been a thorn in my side since you were a snot-nosed girl,” Fortescu breathes. “I have trained many a talented mind, including both your fathers, but I have never been forced to be in the same room as someone like you.”

“Good,” I sniff. “I wouldn’t want to feel like I had any competition.”

“You and I,” he chuckles softly, “we were never meant to meet.” Fortescu walks towards me. “I am surprised the heavens have not opened up to destroy us.”

“Too easy,” I whisper. 

Fortescu towers over me. “Let us begin the lesson then.”

I walk away from him, going over to the piano. “About time. I was growing bored with your maniacal ramblings.” I set the seat right again and sit down before the keyboard. I begin to play, singing a song I had written, hoping it only serves to make him angrier.

Fortescu comes up behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “No, no, no,” he growls. “That is all wrong.”

I don’t stop. I know he is only trying to upset me. I won’t allow him to rile me any further than he already has.

“Your pitch is off, Princess.” He tugs at the belt of my robe, making it fall open. I don’t stop playing or singing for an instant. “Let me help you adjust it.” His cold hand smooths down my chest. I don’t have much in the way of breasts, but he slides his palm over them then down my belly. My voice warbles for a moment but I press on, not allowing him the satisfaction of a reaction from me.

“A skilled musician should be able to perform no matter what the situation,” Fortescu growls in my ear. His long fingers slip between my thighs, pressing against my mound.

My lashes flutter as his cold touch becomes warm. His skilled fingers rub over the silken fabric of my panties, finding that they are soaked.

“Disgusting,” he pants in my ear. “Vile girl.” He moves his hand back to slip his fingers inside the fabric. He touches the down soft hair on my mound before his fingers slip between my folds. “So wet,” he breathes.

My hands are trembling, but I force myself to continue to play. My voice cracks, giving way to soft moans and whimpers, but I go on singing. Fortescu’s chest presses into my back while his voice growls in my ear. The vibrations of it travel down my spine, making me shudder with his touch. I spread my thighs more, allowing his fingers to roam me freely. He swirls his fingertips against my sensitive bud, making me quiver even more.

I don’t realize I have stopped playing. My singing has become high-pitched wails, low sighs, and deep, heavy breathing. I let out a loud crescendo that echoes off the walls. I press myself into Fortescu’s back as his fingers slip away from me. I watch them, seeing my nectar dripping from his fingertips, making strands like a spider’s web. 

Fortescu breathes into my ear. “That is the end of the lesson. We will continue tomorrow, no excuses. Even if you drink too much and wind up sick, I still expect you here. No special treatment.”

I am still trembling all over with aftershocks that travel from my loins and all through my body. I take a raspy breath as I lean over the keyboard. “If I am receiving no special treatment,” I whisper, “then what was that?”

“It was a training exercise,” he moans.

I stand up, but my legs are shaky. I brace against the piano as I turn to look back at him. “How long have you been waiting to try it?”

Fortescu tilts his chin up. “I have not even started, Princess. It’s only for… extreme circumstances.”

My wetness is dripping down my thighs. I have never been brought to such a height as Fortescu’s skilled fingers took me to. My body is still vibrating with heat and desire, and just one climax isn’t enough to quell me. 

“Well?” Fortescu snarls. “What are you waiting for? Get out of here! I am sick of looking at you. It’s bad enough that I have to perform at your awful party tonight.” He turns his back to me and starts rifling through a stack of sheet music.

“I’m just having a hard time understanding today’s lesson.” I walk up behind him, placing my arms around his waist. “I need a little more help.”

Fortescu doesn’t make a sound.

I move my hands down his front, finding a hard bulge in his pants. I moan softly, rubbing along the stiff ridge until there is a pulse.

“It’s a lesson I’m not sure you’re ready for, Princess,” he hisses.

“I’ve been wanting for it for a while now, Fortescu,” I moan. “I’m ready.”

Fortescu turns around, glaring down at me. “You’re such a spoiled brat.” He pushes me back until I am sitting on the keys of the piano. “You think you deserve everything.” He pushes my thighs apart with one hand. The other hand removes his belt then drops his pants. 

He presses a fingertip to my lips. “I want you,” I whimper.

Fortescu snarls under his breath. “Of course you do.” He places himself between my thighs and slides his shaft along my folds. “Don’t think I am giving in so easily, Princess.” He teases me with the pointed tip of his cock. “Far from it. This is just another lesson - one of many.”

I whimper as he eases inside me.

“You’ll sing,” he snarls into my ear as he bends over. “I’ll make you sing.”

“Fortescu!” I cry out as his entire length slides inside me. 

The lid of the piano bangs as Forestcu’s hands clamp down on it. He growls in my ear, chuckling darkly. “Yes. Keep singing, just like that.”

I grab onto his arms, sighing and moaning as he starts to move. We have always careened dangerously close to this, having made our arguments a sort of cruel flirting. We have always been so careful to pull away before we fell, but today, we lost all caution. 

He plunges deep into me, and while at first, it feels strange and uncomfortable, the more he rasps in my ear, the better I feel. I squeeze myself around his cock, feeling the cold pulse of him sound throughout my entire body. I sing for him, pleading to him to never stop the lesson. 

Eventually, his song joins mine. We fall from the piano, tangling together on the floor where the sheet music has scattered like a blanket for us. I feel his music course through me, making my song trill out so loud.

As we gasp for breath, Fortescu’s voice rises in pitch. He lets out a howling note before he pulls away from me. His warmth splashes on my belly and thighs and drips onto the sheet music, creating new notes. 

“Oh, no,” I whisper.

Fortescu chuckles. “Only now?”

I cover my face with my palms. “What have I done?”

Fortescu’s hand pets down my body. “Do not blame yourself, Princess.” He wipes up the mess on my body. “Not entirely.”

I sit up from the ground, clutching my robe around me. “I didn’t mean for this,” I whisper. “I didn’t… I’ve never…” I snap my mouth shut, then open it to say, “I hate you!”

“I hate you as well,” Fortescu laughs. 

“But I-” I cup my hand around his mask. I place a soft kiss where the mouth should be. “I want you too.”

Fortescu moans softly. “Our little secret?”

I nod. “It has to be.”

Fortescu helps me stand from the floor. I see his bare legs for the first time, and they are covered in a thick dark fur that looks like moving shadows. His feet are more like paws than anything. 

“We shall have to be careful moving forward from now on,” he breathes. 

“Yes, of course.” I run my fingers through my hair, watching him as he pulls his pants on. I watch him tuck away the cock that made me sing my most powerful song yet. I bite my lip, realizing there is more I desire from Fortescu.

“Stop looking at me!” Fortescu hisses, slicing his hand through the air. 

“Or what?” I smirk. “You’ll teach me another lesson?”

Fortescu grabs my robe and closes it around me. “Exactly.” He slaps his hand against my flank. 

I kiss his neck softly. “Just know - if you ever make me this angry again, I will not hesitate to teach you as well.” I leave the music room, my heart still pounding violently. 

I am still in a daze, even at my birthday party. My mind is focused on the pleasure Fortescu and I shared during our lesson. I cannot escape the thoughts, and they become more wild and ravishing as the night goes on. I have always felt a strange attraction to Fortescu, but now I realize that all our bickering and arguments have been a way to hide the trust and desire we shared.

When Fortescu comes into the ballroom, my eyes immediately go to him and track his movements. He approaches me and bows his head. 

“You do not look as ridiculous as I expected you to, Princess.” He takes my hand, stroking his thumb over my knuckles. 

“Thank you,” I breathe softly. “And you look-” I glance over his attire, realizing it is not black he has on, but a very deep shade of blue. “I daresay this is the best you’ve looked in a long time, Fortescu.”

He chuckles. “I was threatened with death should I wear black tonight.” He clutches my hand tightly for a brief moment. “I have a special song for you tonight. I do so hope you enjoy it.”

“I hope so, too.” I watch him as he goes to stand with the musicians. He takes control for the moment, scaring away the pianist and sitting down in his place, where he starts to play. I recognize the tune; it is the one he was playing as we were arguing. Fortescu starts to sing, and I have never heard him sound more beautiful. Every hair on my body stands on end as his powerful voice fills the room, making everyone in his presence stop in their tracks.

I take in a deep breath, wanting to breathe in his music and voice as my own. It feels as if he is all around me, touching every inch of my skin and soul. I can feel his hands grabbing me and the heat of his body within me.

As his song ends, I do not applaud; that would not do what I had just experienced justice. We gaze at one another for the longest time, and he leaves as soon as the applause dissipates. I watch him leave as a chill trails down my spine. I want him again; in fact, I may need him.

I slip away from the party later, disappearing into the halls. I stand before his door, staring up at it as I argue with myself about whether I should open it. As I reach for the handle, the door opens. Fortescu stands there, staring down at me. He’s wearing only a long tunic, and his long white-and-black hair have been let down to hang around his body. It’s so thick and wavy, it is almost like a lion’s mane around his head.

“Get in. Now,” he snarls.

I rush into his room, going down a dark, narrow hallway that leads down, down, down. It opens up into a second music room. This one is massive compared to the one I know, carved from the rock foundation of the palace. Part of the room is occupied by a body of water, which casts shimmering light on the walls.

Fortescu grabs me from behind. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

“I had to,” I whimper. “Your song, it was just… It was perfect.” I clasp my hands over his. “I had to tell you in person how much it moved me.”

Fortescu chuckles against my ear. “Does all the rest of my music just sound like a mosquito’s whine in your ear, then?”

“No,” I gasp. “I love your music. I really do. But tonight-” I turn and look up at him. “How could anyone not fall madly in love with you after hearing you sing that song?”

Fortescu tilts his head to the side. “What are you saying, Princess?” He whispers. “Are you telling me the whole royal court are now my love slaves?” He catches a curl of my hair around his finger, tugging it just enough to cause pain. “Or are you sacrificing yourself to me to save all of them?”

I run my hands up his chest, touching the dark curl that spills from the open laces of the tunic. “If you touch anyone else the way you touch me, I’ll see to it that my brother has you hanged.”

“You’d rather destroy your toys than let anyone else play with them?” Fortescu laughs. “You’re such an awful girl, Genevieve.”

He rarely says my name, but in this moment, it feels quite dangerous. “You would do the same, would you not?”

His strong hand squeezes around my tiny waist. “If anyone were to make you sing instead of me, I would stab them with the bow of my violin and use their skin to make a drum.”

I can’t help but smile. I loop my arms around his neck, tugging him down towards me. “You’re horrible.”

“Only I am allowed the honor of your torment, my princess.” He removes the laces of my dress, loosening it so it falls away from my chest. “And only you can torture me.”

I step out of my dress, wearing only my corset, garterbelt and stockings. Fortescu takes in a deep shuddering breath.

I giggle. “Am I torturing you now?”

“Yes, and I want it to end.” He lays my dress aside carefully.

I know I’m very petite, very skinny. My mother is shapely and very feminine in her form, but I have been told I look like a little boy with hips. My breasts merely look like puffy nipples, and my ribs show in a way I hate. I eat and eat, trying to put on some weight, but it simply never happens. Yet, when I feel Fortescu’s gaze on my body, I feel womanly, I feel sexy.

“Before my birthday ends,” I squeak nervously. “I have one last spoiled wish.”

Fortescu scoffs. He picks me up off the ground and carries me across the water. He takes me through a sheer waterfall that leads into his bedchamber, lays me down on the bed, and then stands over me.

“Wish it, although you must be prepared to have it go ungranted,” he laughs.

I sit up on the bed, holding a pillow to my chest. “Take that thing off your face,” I command. 

Fortescu laughs again. “You may run away from me if I do.” He clasps his hand under his chin. “But I have been wanting to show it off to you, if only to make you truly afraid of me.”

“I hate you, but I will never be afraid of you,” I reply. “Now take it off.”

Fortescu slips the mask away and more of his beautiful hair cascades down. His features are thin and gaunt, almost skeletal. His eyes are hollow sockets, which seem endless in depth. There are two long ears hanging down the sides of his head, one white and one black. His top lip is split in the center and behind it, I can see a set of dangerously sharp front teeth.

“A hare,” I whisper.

“Cursed creatures, yes,” he climbs onto the bed with me. “The only reason I am allowed here in the royal court is because I hide myself.” He cups his hand around my face. “Are you not afraid?”

I inch closer to him. “Do you have a fluffy tail?”

Fortescu laughs, breaking into a big grin. He then leans in, pressing a kiss to my lips. I wrap my arms around him, tangling my fingers in his long hair. I fall onto the bed, pulling Fortescu on top of me. All night we sing together, a dangerous song.