milliways_bar: Upstairs

[not_broomboy]

He no longer doubted he was a Man.

He was, after all, a father and not just that but a father to this beautiful Baby.

But every man, even a father, sort of wishes for that time when he was a child, when his father knew everything, when there was someone else to explore the darkness, to check under the Bed.

What was that feeling for someone who'd

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[arjiki_diamonds]

Until there's a knock on the door, of course.

Fiyero had been planning to come by for a small while now, but he'd only just gotten up the nerve - how did you start being a father twenty or so years late? It was difficult.

But he had to at least try.

[not_broomboy]

"Sweet Oz, Trism, just get your ass in the door," he grumbles, irritable. It wasn't as if anyone else might be stopping by. If it was Her, he would have to sharpen his tone. Otherwise...

[arjiki_diamonds]

...the door opens and Fiyero steps inside.

"If I'm interrupting..."

[not_broomboy]

He blinks.

It still wasn't really real in so many ways, but the blue diamonds were almost as hard to face as the green, if not harder in another way entirely. Then Trindle bites his finger and he shakes his head.

"Yes? Oh, um, no. Trism's probably down at the stables. If he isn't around animals for enough time, I think he breaks out in a rash."

He blinks another couple of times before using his other hand to usher Fiyero inside.

"Come in."

[arjiki_diamonds]

"That's ... interesting."

He pauses in the doorway for a scant moment before he moves inside entirely and closes the door. However much he'd like to he doesn't glance around. That would be rude, wouldn't it?

So he nods a little, absently. "Are you well?"

[not_broomboy]

"Of body? As well as to be expected. Of mind? Never."

He pulls Trindle up into his arms and leans up against the backboard.

"You're welcome to the chair."

[arjiki_diamonds]

No, sitting would make him too tempted to back out of his plan.

He feels foolish enough about it as it is.

"I think ... I will stand, thank you."

[not_broomboy]

This gets a quirk of an eyebrow from Liir but nothing more. Trindle, for her part, does nothing but lay against his chest, her night-dark eyes partially closed as she sucks on the thumb of one little hand. She didn't bite herself, of course.

"As you like."

[arjiki_diamonds]

Fiyero nods, clasping his hands behind his back.

He looks as if he's thinking about something. And he is, in fact. He's not quite sure how to come about it, however. So it will likely come out in one quick burst.

[not_broomboy]

"She'll be at Shiz before you finally come out with it, yes?"

Flat. Not disapproving, no, but just a little sharp. It wasn't as if he was trying to be but sometimes it just happened.

[arjiki_diamonds]

"Well, it isn't as if it's something entirely to do with her." His tone is more amused than anything.

Why is this so difficult?

The answer was simple: because he'd never been there for the other children. So he had no practice at all.

"Would you like... to go for a walk?"

[not_broomboy]

He's looking at Fiyero as if he'd just asked him to go for a dragon ride, or perhaps, more precisely, as if Fiyero had just spent nearly ten minutes of being awkward and nervous over asking him to go for a walk.

"A walk?"

[arjiki_diamonds]

"I thought we might talk. If you'd like."

This 'bonding' thing has to start somewhere, doesn't it?

[not_broomboy]

He looks at Fiyero again for a moment but that is interrupted by Trism, who knocks just once before barreling in. The former military man gives Fiyero a short bow before stepping his way to Liir. There's a moment of conversation between them, quiet and ended with an unseen kiss, and Trism picks up Trindle as Liir stands.

There's another nod to Fiyero from Trism as he heads towards the bathroom alcove, obviously out of the picture for the moment. Liir, on the other hand, walks to the door.

"I'm assumig you meant now?"

[arjiki_diamonds]

Fiyero nods.

"I'd like to now, yes." He wouldn't have minded bringing Trindle, but if Trism's got her then he doesn't have to worry about her crying.

[not_broomboy]

He wouldn't have to worry about that anyway.

"All right."

As he's not holding the baby, he's tempted to bring the broom. It's just sitting there, inconspicuous in a corner of the closet yet still visible. He watches it for a moment before finally, finally reaching out a hand for it.

The broom, almost like an eager puppy wishing to please, lands in his palm a second later.

"Let's go then."

And he looks, somewhat snippishly, towards the door.