Title: Maestro
Author: Unicornpearlz
Fandom: Copying Beethoven
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Anna is over Beethoven's flat when he falls ill
Bunny: #2

Musical notes in her own pen scratch floated in front of her eyes as she stood outside the old weathered door and listened to Beethoven as he banged away at the piano. She imagined him sitting at the piano, topless, awaiting her arrival. She could practically see the ear horn strapped to his head - although she suspected that he could actually hear much less than he let on.

She heard his clock start chiming. She was supposed to arrive at three o'clock sharp, and at the stroke of two, she stepped in.

The room was sparse, just as she remembered it. His piano took up a sizable portion of his flat. Next to the piano was a small work table, over flowing with parchment stained with ink. A smaller, neater desk with a delicate chair was seated underneath the window. There was a bed on the opposite side of the room and a wooden armchair near the bed, as if someone was watching while he slept.

The room was dusty and dank with only the glow of a few candles to compliment the light from the window. And, she could see dust specs floating through the sunlight.

"Ah! Anna Holtz! Come in! Come in!" he exclaimed as she walked in.

She smiled as she walked in. He was shirtless and he had his ear horn strapped to his head.

"Did you hear it?" he asked excitedly. "The bells chiming as you walked in?"

"Yes, Maestro. This chimes were in perfect time."

"It must be added," he said, waving his arms around wildly. Quickly, he dipped his quill into the inkwell and scribbled furiously on the music that he'd been playing. He looked at her over his music, "Anna Holtz!"

"Yes, Maestro?"

He paused and a confused look crossed his face. He shook his head vigorously, and the confused look subsided.

"Anna Holtz! Have you transcribed those notes for me?"

"I have, Maestro," she said loudly. She wasn't sure why she bothered. She was fairly certain it wasn't how loudly she spoke, but more how clearly she enunciated that let him understand her.

"Ah!" he smiled, and stepped past his piano to see the music that she held out to him.

Suddenly, the confused look came over his face again. A hand flew to his face as he took a few stumbling steps away. He started to pant heavily, but held up a hand stopping Anna when she moved to go to him.

"Hah-Chhhessaa!" The sneeze jerked him back, and then threw him forward, doubling him over.

"Gesundheit, Maestro."

Wiping his hand off on his pants leg, he snuffled heavily. "Excuse me, Anna Holtz, I do not know what -," he paused again. His hand few back to his face, "Hah-Chhssaa!" Again, the sneeze jerked him back and threw him forward.

She placed the music on her desk and moved towards him. "Maestro?"

"I feel," he started, then sniffed.

"Here," she said, handing him her handkerchief.

"Thank you," he said gruffly, and blew heavily into it.

"Maestro, are you well?" she asked, hesitantly.

"It's just another cold," he stated, wiping his nose dry.

"Another one?" she asked, grasping his arm firmly. "Maestro, have you been ill?"

"Bah! It's nothing." But, he did not pull away from her grip.

"Sir, you're warm. I think we should put the music away for the day, and you should rest."

He looked into pleading eyes, and his cold demeanor dissolved. "All right. If it will make you feel better, I'll sit down for a moment."

He let her lead him over to the chair, and sat down with a groan. "There," he stated. "Is that better?"

"You tell me, Maestro."

He thought about that for a second and then nodded. "Aye. I've been so sore... and tired."

"Then why don't you put on your shirt, and get into bed?"

"I'm sorry, Anna Holtz, you don't want a fat old man like me," he said tiredly.

She looked at him oddly, then restated her statement differently. "Sir, a great Maestro like you... someday you will be loved, but today, the idea is to make you well."

She took a shirt from his chest and handed it over to him. "Put this on, Maestro, you're shivering."

"Thank you," he replied, tiredly. Suddenly, he found he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. "Hesshesssh! Heh-Chhsssaa!" He sneezed freely, his head snapping forward.

"Gesundheit, Maestro." She placed her hand on his shoulder. "Sir, please put on your shirt and get under the covers. The music can wait. Your health cannot."

As she turned to go, he grabbed her wrist lightly. "Anna Holtz, you have a kind heart. You are a good woman, Anna Holtz. You will make a man very happy someday."

She smiled. He knew that she was currently living in a nunnery. But, she wasn't going to remind him of that. It didn't feel necessary, at this time. "Thank you, Maestro," she said, softly.

He grunted and nodded in a response. Slowed by fatigue, he carefully put on his shirt, and climbed into bed.

"Shall I stay with you?" she asked, taking up residence in the armchair.

He smiled. "This could have gone better today, Anna Holtz," he said sleepily. "But, thank you for staying."

She only nodded, as he tucked himself into bed and drifted off to sleep.