Creatures of habit.
[ Day 51, 1:24am - East Wing ]
the little boy lost in the lonely fen,
led by the wand'ring light,
began to cry; but God, ever nigh,
appear'd like his father in white.
he kissed the child and by the hand led
and to his mother brought,
who in sorrow pale, thro' the lonely dale,
her little boy weeping sought.
w i l l i a m b l a k e
It's an ungodly hour, but Cheri fell asleep hours ago while in the library doing research for her next book and woke up to find herself in a completely different spot -- cozily curled up under a thick blanket on the divan with an attentive servant by her side. Cheri doesn't remember falling asleep there, which means someone must've moved her. That person ought to have woken her up; she certainly won't be able to sleep now, especially since she's just heard the news of the Conrad's return.
She's sure everyone else is asleep, and it's completely silly, but she needs to see Conrad. She needs to know he's all right, so she shuffles softly down the corridor towards Conrad's room. It's dark and rather chilly, but at least she doesn't have heels on to announce her arrival.
Over a filmy nightgown she wears her purple robe, the one with the deep pocket that holds Dan Hiri's letter. She's carried it around for weeks now. At first she had written a long response full of questions about Conrad, Yozak, and Anissina, but afterward she realized that there was an excellent chance that the letter could be intercepted, and since everyone was away, a member of Cheri's own guard couldn't even be spared to deliver it for her. And then there was also the fact that Dan Hiri might not be able to read it anyway, or, for that matter, have the patience to write her back an answer.
So she just carried around the letter. A piece of her husband in her pocket. He was home now, but the servant didn't know where he was, and Cheri was sure she could find him herself. After she found Conrad, of course.
When Cheri arrives, she unlocks the door as quietly as possible with her skeleton key, and after closing the door carefully behind her, she leaves her slippers at the door and pads quietly across the carpet through the sitting room. As she moves, Cheri can't help but notice how different the rooms look by night. They do reflect her efforts, however. The broken window has been replaced, the walls repainted and the color scheme slightly changed, but except for a light layer of dust, the room mostly remains unchanged. In the beginning, when Conrad had asked her to move Yozak's things into his rooms, she intended to redesign the rooms completely, but the look that Gwendal gave her when she told him of her plans had spoken volumes -- Conrad would definitely not appreciate coming home to a whole new suite.
Soldiers, Gwendal later told his mother in his impassive, offhand way, were creatures of habit. They did everything together at the same time. Things like eating, sleeping, running laps every day -- all contributed towards a sense of solidarity. The routine of it was comforting, he said. Stability in the face of instability. Conrad was accustomed to this.
And later, when Cheri really thought about it, she realized that Conrad really did fit that description quite perfectly. A creature of habit. Solid. Stable. Dependable. Dutiful. Not especially fond of change. It amused her to think about it, but she was pleased that Gwendal understood this important thing about his younger brother nonetheless. It made her hope that Gwendal and Conrad were closer to each other than she knew. Interesting, she noted, that Gwendal could understand his brother in a way she never could. A kinship drawn from mutual military experience.
Speaking of kinships, Cheri now briefly wonders if Yozak is asleep as well. She would really hate to wake either of them up, as she's sure they've had a long journey...but...she has to see for herself that Conrad is all right. Could anyone really blame her for such a thing?
The bedroom is warm. Cheri is hesitant, but she pushes the door ajar with a fingertip anyway and peeks inside anyway. The fire is crackling softly, shadows flickering at the walls, and she blinks several times to adjust her eyes to the dim light.
As far as she can see, there's only one dark outline under the bedcovers -- one with tousled brown hair, highlighted with gold from the firelight, shining on the pillow.
She allows herself a small sigh of relief. Yozak must still be out. Hopefully he wouldn't be back for a while. She hopes later he'll be able to find his things well enough. She pauses, wishing she could be there to see the redhead's expression when he eventually finds all the treats she has left for him. Conrad had said he would need some new things, after all...
Feeling a bit strange, Cheri tiptoes close to the bedside. Her silhouette casts a shadow onto the bed in front of her as she tiptoes around to get a better look at her son.
He looks...fine. His hair is longer. And he's...a bit thinner, perhaps? But Cheri can't really be sure. How many times has she really seen him in the last three months, anyway? Not enough, she knows, but it can't be helped. The things he filled his life and time with were more important -- Yuuri-heika was more important -- than family. This kind of sacrifice she could understand well.
She smiles and lightly holds the back of one finger to his cheek. He was all right, she was sure. There wasn't anything wrong with him that she could sense, at least. And surely she could stay for just an instant longer. Completely relaxed, he looks very young and almost vulnerable, like he had when he was very small, and Cheri can't look away so quickly.
Slowly, her smile becomes tinged with like sadness. She misses the days when the boys were young, especially when Conrad was a baby. She had missed a sizeable portion of his childhood due to her role as the Maou. His first steps, his first words. His favorite toys. The first time he went outside. Milestones and insignificant details. Perhaps she had been too wrapped up in herself, in her responsibilities...that...
He had trusted her, when he was a little child. And now so many things have happened...Stoffel. Julia, and Ruttenberg, and a million tiny flashes of memory that make her chest ache to think of them.
There really isn't anything she can do, is there? Nothing but swallow her regrets and look forward. Her baby...how she'd love to wake him and tell him everything she's been thinking about over the past couple of weeks...but she should definitely let him sleep. It's not as if he won't be here in the morning. Of course he will be. There are things that can be fixed. In time, surely...all things in time.
It's rather difficult to convince herself that, even though Conrad's right here.
Cheri leans over, careful not to let her thick hair wake him, and presses a featherlight kiss to his forehead.
"Okaeri nasai," she murmurs. "Welcome home, darling."
Conrad continues to breathe deeply, and even though his eyelashes flutter slightly, he does not wake. Cheri tiptoes out, feeling calmer, but still slightly anxious. She wonders where Conrad has been and what he has been doing, and even more -- where Dan Hiri is, and what he thought of their little boy who certainly wasn't so little anymore.
Cheri allows herself a sad smile as she closes the door behind her. Would he even want to see her? Would he tell her everything that happened? Did he even know she was here?
Was he going to stay?
She slips her hand into her pocket, touches the letter, and sighs.
The only way to find out is to ask the man himself.
[ ooc: if anyone isn't okay with the mentions in here, let me know. they just kinda...happened. ♥ also, because i'm a big dork -- mood music! ]
the little boy lost in the lonely fen,
led by the wand'ring light,
began to cry; but God, ever nigh,
appear'd like his father in white.
he kissed the child and by the hand led
and to his mother brought,
who in sorrow pale, thro' the lonely dale,
her little boy weeping sought.
w i l l i a m b l a k e
It's an ungodly hour, but Cheri fell asleep hours ago while in the library doing research for her next book and woke up to find herself in a completely different spot -- cozily curled up under a thick blanket on the divan with an attentive servant by her side. Cheri doesn't remember falling asleep there, which means someone must've moved her. That person ought to have woken her up; she certainly won't be able to sleep now, especially since she's just heard the news of the Conrad's return.
She's sure everyone else is asleep, and it's completely silly, but she needs to see Conrad. She needs to know he's all right, so she shuffles softly down the corridor towards Conrad's room. It's dark and rather chilly, but at least she doesn't have heels on to announce her arrival.
Over a filmy nightgown she wears her purple robe, the one with the deep pocket that holds Dan Hiri's letter. She's carried it around for weeks now. At first she had written a long response full of questions about Conrad, Yozak, and Anissina, but afterward she realized that there was an excellent chance that the letter could be intercepted, and since everyone was away, a member of Cheri's own guard couldn't even be spared to deliver it for her. And then there was also the fact that Dan Hiri might not be able to read it anyway, or, for that matter, have the patience to write her back an answer.
So she just carried around the letter. A piece of her husband in her pocket. He was home now, but the servant didn't know where he was, and Cheri was sure she could find him herself. After she found Conrad, of course.
When Cheri arrives, she unlocks the door as quietly as possible with her skeleton key, and after closing the door carefully behind her, she leaves her slippers at the door and pads quietly across the carpet through the sitting room. As she moves, Cheri can't help but notice how different the rooms look by night. They do reflect her efforts, however. The broken window has been replaced, the walls repainted and the color scheme slightly changed, but except for a light layer of dust, the room mostly remains unchanged. In the beginning, when Conrad had asked her to move Yozak's things into his rooms, she intended to redesign the rooms completely, but the look that Gwendal gave her when she told him of her plans had spoken volumes -- Conrad would definitely not appreciate coming home to a whole new suite.
Soldiers, Gwendal later told his mother in his impassive, offhand way, were creatures of habit. They did everything together at the same time. Things like eating, sleeping, running laps every day -- all contributed towards a sense of solidarity. The routine of it was comforting, he said. Stability in the face of instability. Conrad was accustomed to this.
And later, when Cheri really thought about it, she realized that Conrad really did fit that description quite perfectly. A creature of habit. Solid. Stable. Dependable. Dutiful. Not especially fond of change. It amused her to think about it, but she was pleased that Gwendal understood this important thing about his younger brother nonetheless. It made her hope that Gwendal and Conrad were closer to each other than she knew. Interesting, she noted, that Gwendal could understand his brother in a way she never could. A kinship drawn from mutual military experience.
Speaking of kinships, Cheri now briefly wonders if Yozak is asleep as well. She would really hate to wake either of them up, as she's sure they've had a long journey...but...she has to see for herself that Conrad is all right. Could anyone really blame her for such a thing?
The bedroom is warm. Cheri is hesitant, but she pushes the door ajar with a fingertip anyway and peeks inside anyway. The fire is crackling softly, shadows flickering at the walls, and she blinks several times to adjust her eyes to the dim light.
As far as she can see, there's only one dark outline under the bedcovers -- one with tousled brown hair, highlighted with gold from the firelight, shining on the pillow.
She allows herself a small sigh of relief. Yozak must still be out. Hopefully he wouldn't be back for a while. She hopes later he'll be able to find his things well enough. She pauses, wishing she could be there to see the redhead's expression when he eventually finds all the treats she has left for him. Conrad had said he would need some new things, after all...
Feeling a bit strange, Cheri tiptoes close to the bedside. Her silhouette casts a shadow onto the bed in front of her as she tiptoes around to get a better look at her son.
He looks...fine. His hair is longer. And he's...a bit thinner, perhaps? But Cheri can't really be sure. How many times has she really seen him in the last three months, anyway? Not enough, she knows, but it can't be helped. The things he filled his life and time with were more important -- Yuuri-heika was more important -- than family. This kind of sacrifice she could understand well.
She smiles and lightly holds the back of one finger to his cheek. He was all right, she was sure. There wasn't anything wrong with him that she could sense, at least. And surely she could stay for just an instant longer. Completely relaxed, he looks very young and almost vulnerable, like he had when he was very small, and Cheri can't look away so quickly.
Slowly, her smile becomes tinged with like sadness. She misses the days when the boys were young, especially when Conrad was a baby. She had missed a sizeable portion of his childhood due to her role as the Maou. His first steps, his first words. His favorite toys. The first time he went outside. Milestones and insignificant details. Perhaps she had been too wrapped up in herself, in her responsibilities...that...
He had trusted her, when he was a little child. And now so many things have happened...Stoffel. Julia, and Ruttenberg, and a million tiny flashes of memory that make her chest ache to think of them.
There really isn't anything she can do, is there? Nothing but swallow her regrets and look forward. Her baby...how she'd love to wake him and tell him everything she's been thinking about over the past couple of weeks...but she should definitely let him sleep. It's not as if he won't be here in the morning. Of course he will be. There are things that can be fixed. In time, surely...all things in time.
It's rather difficult to convince herself that, even though Conrad's right here.
Cheri leans over, careful not to let her thick hair wake him, and presses a featherlight kiss to his forehead.
"Okaeri nasai," she murmurs. "Welcome home, darling."
Conrad continues to breathe deeply, and even though his eyelashes flutter slightly, he does not wake. Cheri tiptoes out, feeling calmer, but still slightly anxious. She wonders where Conrad has been and what he has been doing, and even more -- where Dan Hiri is, and what he thought of their little boy who certainly wasn't so little anymore.
Cheri allows herself a sad smile as she closes the door behind her. Would he even want to see her? Would he tell her everything that happened? Did he even know she was here?
Was he going to stay?
She slips her hand into her pocket, touches the letter, and sighs.
The only way to find out is to ask the man himself.
[ ooc: if anyone isn't okay with the mentions in here, let me know. they just kinda...happened. ♥ also, because i'm a big dork -- mood music! ]