Post by seraaches on Sept 29, 2008 0:31:49 GMT -5
It was a strange journey and it took far longer than the stag cared for, not with what he knew lay at the end. He couldn’t rush the girls, though, not without causing them further worry. They were still too young for hard, prolonged travel and there was no coach at first. So it had taken them nearly two weeks to get somewhere large enough for them to find a vehicle they could hire.
The initial excitement of not only going on a trip—neither Neviah nor Mirai had left their neighbourhood, much less Avington—but a journey all the way to the Capital City wasn’t enough to keep the girls occupied the entire way. They swiftly grew weary of being confined to the carriage and each day Reston insisted they spend a certain amount of time walking along with the coach, giving his daughters opportunities to stretch their legs and see the countryside. The stag was very careful to not think that he might be delaying them. He alternated between a need to rush the carriage along and a need to slow its movement as much as possible. He forced his mind to stay on Neviah and Mirai’s pleasure and exhilaration to be on a real, honest-to-goodness trip in an actual carriage.
As their coach finally rumbled into the Capital City, it swung eastward towards the Palace of Clubs. How far along was the woman? How was she doing? Was this pregnancy hard on her? Had the Queens told her about her. . . condition? Had she noticed it? Mari, the dear girl, wasn’t always the brightest crayon in the box; he had adored her for that. It had been one way to make it through the years after she had abandoned them, the idea that her parents had somehow conned her into staying. . . No, that wasn’t true. She hadn’t abandoned him. He took a deep breath, one hand covering his eyes as he tried to mask the emotions before the girls noticed. He had to keep it together for them. By the Secrets, he couldn’t fall apart now.
A gentle hand rested on his shoulder and Reston looked sideways at the cormorant who sent him a sympathetic look. Edward called for the girls’ attention, distracting them before they could notice their father’s near meltdown. “Oh, look, girls! We’re going past the Bazaar!”
Immediately the children clambered for the window, oohing and ahhing in excitement.
“Will you make it, Reston?” Alachard asked in a low tone.
The Spade gave the other man a wane smile. “I have to. My girls need me.”
And that was the long and short of it. The Avington man would do whatever he had to do in order to support his girls, all three of them.
The Heart was silent as the fawn turned her head to call excitedly for her father to look and see. He leaned forward with a smile plastered onto his face and it was evident from how easily it happened that Reston had a great deal of practice at this exact act. Edward exchanged a glance over the children’s heads with his travelling comrade and the avian gave a low sigh before settling back in his seat again. Sadly, this reassured him that this mission was going to be a success, but he wasn’t certain at what cost the feat would be.
Over the last few weeks, Alachard had come to respect the single parent who spent so much time and care for his two girls, even though their very presence seemed to nearly pain the man at times. He was, the Highlander knew, still very much in love with the girls’ mother, despite years of thinking they had been betrayed and abandoned. It frightened Alachard, really; who found love like that in their lifetime? He certainly hadn’t, and now he wasn’t sure he wanted to; not with the knowledge of what lay ahead of this ill-fated pair.
“There it is,” the Morganberry’s voice held very deep pleasure. It was obvious that he considered this home. The coach fell silent as they rumbled closer to the sand-coloured structure. The girls stared with wide eyes and open mouths as they approached the impressive palace.
Alachard watched the building’s approach with a critical eye; to be honest, it wasn’t nearly as showy or pretty as the Palace of Hearts, yet one could never argue with how meticulously the façade was maintained. His eyes strayed back to the stag again and shifted uncomfortably at what he saw there.
Reston stared out of the coach window, face drawn and eyes shuttered as he watched the approaching building with trepidation and excitement. Mari, hold on. I’m almost there. Secrets and lies, what sort of reception awaited them? Despite the letter, despite his own heart, he was equally afraid of arriving in time as arriving too late. Mari. . . will you really want us? Am I doing the right thing for us? For the girls? Please, Light Above, let this be the right decision. Right or wrong, he had to come; he had to know.
The carriage rumbled on.
The initial excitement of not only going on a trip—neither Neviah nor Mirai had left their neighbourhood, much less Avington—but a journey all the way to the Capital City wasn’t enough to keep the girls occupied the entire way. They swiftly grew weary of being confined to the carriage and each day Reston insisted they spend a certain amount of time walking along with the coach, giving his daughters opportunities to stretch their legs and see the countryside. The stag was very careful to not think that he might be delaying them. He alternated between a need to rush the carriage along and a need to slow its movement as much as possible. He forced his mind to stay on Neviah and Mirai’s pleasure and exhilaration to be on a real, honest-to-goodness trip in an actual carriage.
As their coach finally rumbled into the Capital City, it swung eastward towards the Palace of Clubs. How far along was the woman? How was she doing? Was this pregnancy hard on her? Had the Queens told her about her. . . condition? Had she noticed it? Mari, the dear girl, wasn’t always the brightest crayon in the box; he had adored her for that. It had been one way to make it through the years after she had abandoned them, the idea that her parents had somehow conned her into staying. . . No, that wasn’t true. She hadn’t abandoned him. He took a deep breath, one hand covering his eyes as he tried to mask the emotions before the girls noticed. He had to keep it together for them. By the Secrets, he couldn’t fall apart now.
A gentle hand rested on his shoulder and Reston looked sideways at the cormorant who sent him a sympathetic look. Edward called for the girls’ attention, distracting them before they could notice their father’s near meltdown. “Oh, look, girls! We’re going past the Bazaar!”
Immediately the children clambered for the window, oohing and ahhing in excitement.
“Will you make it, Reston?” Alachard asked in a low tone.
The Spade gave the other man a wane smile. “I have to. My girls need me.”
And that was the long and short of it. The Avington man would do whatever he had to do in order to support his girls, all three of them.
The Heart was silent as the fawn turned her head to call excitedly for her father to look and see. He leaned forward with a smile plastered onto his face and it was evident from how easily it happened that Reston had a great deal of practice at this exact act. Edward exchanged a glance over the children’s heads with his travelling comrade and the avian gave a low sigh before settling back in his seat again. Sadly, this reassured him that this mission was going to be a success, but he wasn’t certain at what cost the feat would be.
Over the last few weeks, Alachard had come to respect the single parent who spent so much time and care for his two girls, even though their very presence seemed to nearly pain the man at times. He was, the Highlander knew, still very much in love with the girls’ mother, despite years of thinking they had been betrayed and abandoned. It frightened Alachard, really; who found love like that in their lifetime? He certainly hadn’t, and now he wasn’t sure he wanted to; not with the knowledge of what lay ahead of this ill-fated pair.
“There it is,” the Morganberry’s voice held very deep pleasure. It was obvious that he considered this home. The coach fell silent as they rumbled closer to the sand-coloured structure. The girls stared with wide eyes and open mouths as they approached the impressive palace.
Alachard watched the building’s approach with a critical eye; to be honest, it wasn’t nearly as showy or pretty as the Palace of Hearts, yet one could never argue with how meticulously the façade was maintained. His eyes strayed back to the stag again and shifted uncomfortably at what he saw there.
Reston stared out of the coach window, face drawn and eyes shuttered as he watched the approaching building with trepidation and excitement. Mari, hold on. I’m almost there. Secrets and lies, what sort of reception awaited them? Despite the letter, despite his own heart, he was equally afraid of arriving in time as arriving too late. Mari. . . will you really want us? Am I doing the right thing for us? For the girls? Please, Light Above, let this be the right decision. Right or wrong, he had to come; he had to know.
The carriage rumbled on.
