When he woke the house was empty, and silent save for the crackling of the fires. When he ventured outside he heard the children's voices through the trees, close and cheerful, and he found Lydia on the porch with a cup of hot wine that steamed in the air.
"You shouldn't have let me sleep so long," he told her, and took the wine when she offered it.
"I was going to let you sleep for longer," she said, wrapping up more warmly as he settled beside her on the bench. "You should have seen yourself. You looked half-dead when you came in."
"Only half?"
The children burst from the clearing and thundered up the steps to the porch, brimming over with questions: did he really fight more dragons and how big were they, and did he really ride one like they said in Whiterun, and they fixed the roof and it took days and days, and was he staying this time and would he play tag? A yes was on his tongue but Lydia said, "No," with a sternness any jarl would envy. "Let him rest. You two run along—unless it's time for chores?" It sounded like scamper. They scampered.
"I would have played," he protested under his breath once they ran off.
Lydia looked him over. "I thought you might need more time to rest."
Which meant he probably looked at least a quarter-dead, he considered, but if it meant rest, he couldn't complain. From up there he could see the children playing beneath the pines, weaving around the trunks in endless patterns of catch-and-chase-and-repeat. They scrambled over rocks and under boughs, dodging and shouting at one another and laughing all the while.
When he caught sight of their faces they were flushed, and bright with joy. So different, he thought, from how they'd been when he'd seen them first. All their fear, all their hopelessness had melted away like snow under the warmth of home and family. He relaxed against his wife's side, content as a cat, and took in the sight like a balm.
When the children's game brought them around again they galloped up the steps so the whole porch rang with the noise, and this time he reached out and seized hold of them both so they shrieked with surprise. "Got you!" he shouted, and Blaise wriggled loose almost at once.
But Lucia only laughed and watched him, and demanded, "Now what are you going to do?"
He hesitated, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"What are you going to do now that you've caught us?" she asked, face expectant as she hopped in place. Hopeful, he realized, even as the question brought him up short.
Run, he thought, she means are you going to run after them, but it was a different kind of truth that stirred inside him. Live, he thought as he got up to chase them, I'm going to live, and he did.
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timeasmymeasure
Re: A Peace Unexpected 6/6
Date: 2013-06-02 06:16 pm (UTC)"You shouldn't have let me sleep so long," he told her, and took the wine when she offered it.
"I was going to let you sleep for longer," she said, wrapping up more warmly as he settled beside her on the bench. "You should have seen yourself. You looked half-dead when you came in."
"Only half?"
The children burst from the clearing and thundered up the steps to the porch, brimming over with questions: did he really fight more dragons and how big were they, and did he really ride one like they said in Whiterun, and they fixed the roof and it took days and days, and was he staying this time and would he play tag? A yes was on his tongue but Lydia said, "No," with a sternness any jarl would envy. "Let him rest. You two run along—unless it's time for chores?" It sounded like scamper. They scampered.
"I would have played," he protested under his breath once they ran off.
Lydia looked him over. "I thought you might need more time to rest."
Which meant he probably looked at least a quarter-dead, he considered, but if it meant rest, he couldn't complain. From up there he could see the children playing beneath the pines, weaving around the trunks in endless patterns of catch-and-chase-and-repeat. They scrambled over rocks and under boughs, dodging and shouting at one another and laughing all the while.
When he caught sight of their faces they were flushed, and bright with joy. So different, he thought, from how they'd been when he'd seen them first. All their fear, all their hopelessness had melted away like snow under the warmth of home and family. He relaxed against his wife's side, content as a cat, and took in the sight like a balm.
When the children's game brought them around again they galloped up the steps so the whole porch rang with the noise, and this time he reached out and seized hold of them both so they shrieked with surprise. "Got you!" he shouted, and Blaise wriggled loose almost at once.
But Lucia only laughed and watched him, and demanded, "Now what are you going to do?"
He hesitated, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"What are you going to do now that you've caught us?" she asked, face expectant as she hopped in place. Hopeful, he realized, even as the question brought him up short.
Run, he thought, she means are you going to run after them, but it was a different kind of truth that stirred inside him. Live, he thought as he got up to chase them, I'm going to live, and he did.