Can You Mean What You Say? Or Am I Hallucinating?

[Viola Prince]

Regret. Most of everyone has certainly endured its dreadful emotion of guilt, loss, or gain. One could become guilty for not arriving at their most trusted friend's matrimonial ceremony. One could feel the sorrow of the loss of a treasured loved one. One could detect the feeling of discomfort with the given information that they had come into some money and had neglected to contribute to his amiable, plebian relatives. In Viola's situation, her guilt stemmed from the moment in her childhood of when she framed her father for her mother's death. She knew it had been just a mere accidental occurrence but she had a truly difficult time of releasing the grudge she held against her father for his unintentional hand in her mother's death.

Viola has attempted to relieve her tension towards her father, and has only succeeded slightly, but the fact that Icarus Prince had left his children in the hands of household staff while he took up a teaching position at the school, only gave way to the feelings of anger and furthermore resentment towards him. She knew of his tormented anguish at himself and his grief, but does he not know that his children had been hurting and grieving at the loss of their dear, beloved mother? Being a child of only eight years old at the moment of her mother's untimely death, Viola endured the feeling of the loss of her mother strongly. A child's bondage to its mother begins to form when inside the womb of said mother, and only intensifies when outside the womb; so one could imagine Viola's emotions ranging from sadness to loneliness to the yearning for her mother's presence.

Viola gasped rather loudly as she put an automatic hand to the hard fabric adorning her flat stomach. "For Merlin's sake, Antonina, could you not be more gentle, please?," Viola hissed breathlessly towards her ladies' maid whom was lacing her stays rather forcefully. "It is meant to uphold pro'riety, m'lady," Antonina responded as Viola grimaced and flinched in the same second. Viola is more than willing to obey the rules of propriety but she is has a firm aversion to corsets or anything that she deemed was a discomfort to her. While she moved to assist Antonina in attaching the bustle, she inquired, "Why have you awoken me so early before the afternoon to dress, Nina? You know my occupation schedule is tiring."

"Your father wishes to speak with you, madam," Antonina responded dutifully as she adjusted the skirt over the bustle and proceeded to button. Viola's eyes widened in astonishment at Antonina's words. Was this statement accurate? Did her father truly wish to discuss with her? If so, then what did he wish to speak with her for? Perhaps he has realized that he has neglected her fatherly duties and began with his eldest child? Viola has not spoken properly with her father since mid-August of when she had asked permission to take up a part-time occupation at Wizzhard's Books since Victor would begin his education in September. Of course, they have corresponded through letters every now and then; but nothing the letters contained was of genuine interest for them both.

Viola was silent in her ponderings as Antonina softened down any crease or wrinkle she thought was visible. Her father had actually taken the time to speak with her? What had suddenly brought on this misadjusted personality from him so unexpectedly? Their last full conversation, besides the one that had taken occurrence in mid-August, was of his wish for his eldest daughter to marry soon since she was no eligible for matrimony. Viola, being particularly rebellious and childish, had decided to go against her father's wishes of gaining a marriage, but rather become a social climber so as to ensure that her younger sister and younger brother were introduced properly into society once they were of age. That has been Viola's sole ambition since the early summer of the year 1880, during her first Season.

"All situated, ma'am," Antonina spoke, jolting Viola out of her ponderings and want of many questions. "Thank you, Nina," she spoke quietly after taking a moment to examine herself in the full-length mirror; and seeming to have found something satisfactory about her appearance, began to take her take her leave of the Prince Household. One of the butlers was holding her coat to shrug into as she neared the door and she gave him a grateful smile as he proceeded to open the entrance door for his master's eldest daughter. Once outside, Viola was provided support into getting into the carriage before the horses geared and began their journey.

As if suddenly, a thought occurred to Viola that she had not even had the decency to inquire of her maid: Where was the destination her father had chosen for their discussion?

Here

  

[Icarus Prince]

Don't you worry turn around, I'll still be here

Viola. Icarus had known for years she was slipping away from him. No, that was wrong, she was practically gone already. He also was very aware that it was all his doing, his fault not only that she and her brother and sister had grown up motherless but that their relationship was in such a precarious state. He blamed himself completely but accepting blame did nothing to help their strained relationship, nor did it make him a better father. When it came to confrontation, Icarus much preferred to run away from it, to bury himself in his hobbies and work to avoid dwelling or dealing with things of an unpleasant nature.

Not wanting to risk the chance his daughter would rebut or make an excuse not to talk to him, he had instead written to his staff instructing them to prepare her to meet with him at Padmore Park that afternoon. Being a weekend and thus free of classes and responsibilities, Icarus had taken advantage of his freedom to at least confront one aspect of his home life he felt it was necessary to do. He wanted to discuss marriage with her. He was happy to resort to an arranged marriage if he thought it necessary. No, he had not had an arranged marriage but most of his memories of marriage now brought him pain. He had married for love and what had it got him? ten years of pain and suffering. He wouldn't want to inflict that upon Viola or any of his children. Perhaps a marriage of mere friendship instead of passion would make for a happier life? He could certainly see the benefits in such a union.

Situated in his greenhouse, a lightly furrowed brow the only sign of his apprehension in the forthcoming meeting, he pulled himself up to full height and looked about the glass building at the plants around as if receiving wishes of luck or comfort from them. In effect, he was. His plants were his way of expressing himself, of expelling his self-loathing, his guilt and every other emotion he felt that he didn't wish to feel. Which was probably almost all of them.

Expelling a sigh, he reached for his overcoat and put it on, checking that his wand was in the pocket before leaving and heading towards the school gates. From there he disapparated and reappeared outside Padmore Park. He wanted to arrive first, to be early so that he might be able to have a last minute or two to figure out how he was going to broach what he knew was a sensitive subject. Thankfully for him, it seemed he was there first as he couldn't see his eldest daughter anywhere nearby as he entered the pleasant little park. He hadn't visited the place often - probably once or twice at most.

Finding an empty bench, he settled himself there and began the wait. He didn't mind the waiting part at all - it gave him plenty of time to think. Viola was clever though, surely she would understand the need for her to marry? He would of course make sure whoever she did marry was worthy of her. He might find it exceedingly difficult and awkward to talk to her but he still loved her dearly as he did both Matilda and Victor.

Tag: Viola Words: 552

created by kay of caution and sds

  

[Viola Prince]

As the carriage rattled onwards towards its destination, Viola stared out of the window expressionlessly. Her thoughts were scattered. In one second she was thinking of what this unexpected conversation with her father would hold, and the next second she was thinking of her childhood friend Wilhelm. Viola hardly though about Wilhelm Lee since the end of her education. Of course, that hardly means that she has not thought about him at all since her graduation. She has just not thought of him properly since. She had been busy befriending those worthy society members to even think about him, or much rather herself. Where was he now? Was he still upholding odd occupations for wealthy families in Wellingtonshire? Did he meet his perfect match and settle down? Viola put a hand to her heart as if it would ease the pain her last pondering gave her. Why was it that she could only see herself worthy of Wilhelm's affections while any other woman was deemed unfit in her mind? It made no sense.

Viola's heartbeat quickened as the carriage neared Padmore Park. While the serenity and the quiet of the park would uplift her spirits any day, the barren trees and the usual frozen lake contained only one emotion: dread. Dread for the uncertainty she felt in seeing her father again after what felt like many years ago. Has he changed? Has the emotionless faþade he had hidden behind lifted and he was the loving, adoring father he was all those many years ago? Had Matilda been harmed? Or Victor? Viola yearned to scream in frustration and anguish as she was dismounted from the carriage and her feet was creating footprints in the soft snow below. "Calm yourself, Miss Prince," the Prince Butler comforted her with a smile, "Nothing too horrible should come of this."

Viola became uncomfortable at the gaze the butler was settling upon her. She had become aware that the treatment from her father's butler had suddenly changed when she turned the age of sixteen. He was constantly at her side with inquiries of whether or not she needed assistance with practicing her dancing or, even more so inappropriate, of whether she required him to sit next to her in a carriage to insure that she stayed warm. The only person that truly knew of the discontentment she felt when in proximity with the butler was her personal maid and Victor's former governess that Viola found hard to not stay in contact with. Widowed Mrs. Chance encouraged her to speak to her father about the behavior her butler was emitting, but she had been too stubborn to do so. Perhaps she could broach the subject with her father while they spoke during the time they had?

Finding an empty bench, he settled himself there and began the wait.

The butler's gaze remained upon her form as she strode away from him and past the entrance of the park. The man's gaze seemed to become more intense with each step she took and more discontent settled within her along with her uncertainness. Thoroughly irritable and uncomfortable, though she knew this would evoke some curiosities, Viola began to briskly jog. The further away from that green-eyed gaze, the better she would feel. Once she was far enough that her carriage was just a tiny speck in her vision, Viola slowed to a walking pace and attempted to slow her breathing to its regular pattern.

Viola spotted her father as she kept a hand to her stomach to help slow her irregular breathing. Corsets truly were cruel. Standing in front of him uncertainly, Viola wondered of whether she should sit beside him or stand while beginning their conversations. The wobbly of her legs from being overly used decided her decision; she sat down. Viola gazed about her surroundings as she pondered the first words she should say. The birds that had not yet gone south were chirping merrily as if sensing that the two people below them needed encouragement and reconciliation. Viola could not keep the smile from her face as she watched the birds supposedly playing. "Such clever birdsà," she whispered under her breath.

Viola suddenly remembered whose presence she was in and returned to her usual, formal self. She recalled one of her questions from her earlier ponderings and decided to begin the conversation with, "Matilda and Victor are well, Father?"

  

[Icarus Prince]

Don't you worry turn around, I'll still be here

Icarus looked up at his daughter blankly at first, his features quickly forming a strained smile. Deep in thought as to how he should broach the subject, he was more than slightly distracted. He barely noticed in fact, as Viola took a seat beside him and gradually eased into conversation, awkward though it may be. Looking down at his interlaced fingers as they rested upon his lap, it took him a while to respond, slowly lifting his head up to consider what he had said. So far from his thoughts were his other two children that he seemed a little disorientated before he actually grasped hold of himself. "Matilda and Vic-? Oh. Yes, yes," he waved a hand dismissively, "both are perfectly fine and well."

There was a slight delay before he added, "And you are keeping well also?" He didn't speak again for a good while, his lips pursed in concentrated thought and eyes directed downwards. Sighing heavily, he finally turned to look at his eldest daughter, a slight frown upon his forehead. "I am presuming that you know why I have requested for us to meet..." he began, finding it rather difficult to talk to her and think of how exactly to phrase his intentions without angering or upsetting her.

"Your mother and I..." he started, then changed his mind and cut himself off. Talking of Adelaide was too painful. Clearing his throat, he began again. "You are no longer a child, Viola..." He gave another exasperated sigh and held his head in his hands for a few moments, struggling with the order in which to say things. "You are of marriageable age, you are by no means plain and the Princes were once a very respectable pureblood family..." It had been a long time since Icarus had rebelled somewhat against the idea of an arranged marriage and he could only see regret in having done so. He saw it as a great error of youth. Had he not pursued Adelaide, had he not let love blind him, she would not have died and he would not be doomed to self-pity and regret for the rest of his life.

She probably knew exactly where he was headed but he continued on regardless. "A long time ago, I might have been more than happy for you to wait and find love but I have learned from mistakes, Viola. Love brings nothing but suffering to those affected by it." And here came for the hardest part to mention, the part he had a strong inkling she would dislike vehemently. "I have found several well connected, wealthy young men who have shown an interest in courting you..."

Tag: Viola Words: 443

created by kay of caution and sds

  

[Viola Prince]

Viola's eyes widened in disbelief as she saw her father take a moment to remember his other children besides herself. Does this mean that Matilda and Victor were being neglected by their father while at Hogwarts? The whole purpose of moving to their residence in Hogsmeade was so their family could stay more closely together. Viola had been hoping and praying that her father would reconnect with her younger sister and brother. Tilda has been convincing herself since the age of six that her father does not want her. He already has a daughter to care for and does not need another one. Viola has attempted to reason with her younger sister, but her attempts were futile as each time the subject was mentioned, Matilda's accidental magic would be in a rage.

"I suppose so," she answered her father's question stiffly. To be truthful, Viola was a trifle upset. She has not been in the presence of her father for five minutes and she was already disappointed in him. Does he not know that his younger children are vying for his attentions; Victor especially? Does he not know that the many times that they attempt speak to him; they are trying to reach out to him? They vaguely even remember the mother they knew they had and their father was not even them the least attention. "Are you keeping well, Father?," she asked after she spoke. Though she was disappointed, Matilda and Victor did not deserve to lose another parent and it would only right to return the question, as well.

Viola kept quiet and stared at the bare tree trunk in front of her as her father tried to get his words out. She now knew that her assumptions were deemed correct. Her father's only mission in speaking with her is about the subject every woman should be interested in: marriage. Truthfully, Viola took pride in her single status. Not only was she content to stay as such, but she has found that most women often miss their days before their marriage. In the beginning, the marriage is a fresh, new experience, but soon it turns dull and uninteresting. "I am aware of our family's previous rank, Father," she said quietly to urge him on. For some unfathomable reason, Viola suddenly had the urge to flee as if she was not going to approve of what came next.

She gritted her teeth in frustration as he went on to mention that love only brought pain and suffering. "Father," she went on, trying to control her temper, "surely you cannot mean what you say. Love is a joyous thing. Nothing can be stronger than the love you feel for someone, whether it is sibling love or friendship love. Honestly, our world lacks love. We could use more of it." Viola put a hand to her mouth as soon as the last words were uttered from her lips. She had no meant to confess that. It was an errant thought she has had frequently, but she has not pondered it fully. But Viola did not correct herself for her confession. It was semi-true. Does love truly exist in the world or does it only exist in families?

Viola's eyes welled up with tears at the thought of marrying for her father's sake. If she had not been aware of how this was her father's way of showing that he still cared, Viola would had assumed that he was just waiting to get rid of her so he does not have to concern himself with an adult child when he could be wallowing in self-pity. Outside, Viola was taking the impression of a woman whom had just gained terrible news; but on the inside, she was in a fit of rage. If she had not sensible and knowing that it was impossible, she would have pounded the nearby tree trunk until it was knocked down. Viola felt the power of her wand rumble through her dress as it sensed her enraged feelings.

Once the tears have subsided, she turned towards him and asked stonily, "Who are these interested men, then? Anyone I should have had the pleasure of meeting already?"

tag: Icarus | outfit: none | notes: none

made by Emily exclusively for Charming

  

[Icarus Prince]

Don't you worry turn around, I'll still be here

Icarus had yet to grasp the fact that his actions, his exceptionally neglectful parenting was causing quite the impact on his three children that it was. He knew they did not have the best relationship but he could think of no way to easily remedy it and so preferred the denial method where he pretended life did not exist outside his classes, marking and plants. It was an easy ruse to keep up most of the time and he saw no immediate reason to disturb it.

"Yes, I am well as always," he replied with little feeling or emotion. It was truth, not that it was a truth she was particularly passionate about. He was doing quite well at ignoring the tense awkwardness that seemed to hang in the air around them, neither seeming very comfortable in the other's presence. It was as though there was a large elephant in the room, and it could probably be said that there was though Icarus would most likely never be the one to confess to it or broach the subject. It was not that he was a coward... or was he? Perhaps he was. Perhaps his mourning was really his fear to accept the reality that his wife was long gone and nothing would bring her back. No amount of mourning, self-sacrifice, self-loathing or regret would ever resurrect the dead. Nor would honoring any vows or distancing himself from people. And yet he had and continued to do so.

He told himself that an arranged marriage that she was at least partly involved in the decision would be the best option. He feared 'allowing' her to marry for love would only cause her more heartache, that it could bring nothing but misfortune and inevitable sorry and that he was doing a great service to her in arranging something instead. It was all because he had known the joys of love that he could find no anger or irritation at her objection as she tried to reason, yet he was convinced he was making a decision that would benefit her far more in the long run. "Love is as permanent as the vessels we reside in, Viola. As soon as health or circumstance feels it is time for us to part with them, we are no more. Love is often not even as long lived as that. Many experience love as fleeting fancies and follies that ultimately begin with passionate affection and end in even more passionate hate. It is for your own good to give up on fanciful notions you read of in your novels and accept that happiness can be found in a spouse that you do not necessarily love, but at least respect." It was a reasonable compromise, he thought, one she would come to be thankful for in time.

The whole time, Icarus had purposely avoided making eye contact with his eldest daughter, preferring to stare straight ahead instead. It was because of this that he did not see his daughter's eyes welling up or catch on to her true emotions. He did, however, notice the tone of voice she asked about the men he had made mention of. "Not yet but I intend to introduce you to them soon. They all seem quite amiable and reasonable. They would treat you well and support you as a good husband ought to." Talk of marriage inevitably did bring up memories of Adelaide, as difficult as it was to push the thoughts to the back of his mind where they would not plague him. "If there should be one of them you prefer out of them then I would not be averse to you selecting from there in. So long as you marry well and to a respectable man then I have no issue with you choosing yourself. I would not have lined up several men had you proved to be more proactive in finding a suitable husband."

Tag: Viola Words: 654

created by kay of caution and sds

  

[Viola Prince]

Viola resisted the urge to confess that she rather thought her father was being untruthful. He was not doing well, mentally and stably. Another round of tears welled up in her eyes as she thought of how her assisting him would most likely be futile. He had loved her mother dearly which was the reasoning for his depression, his losing her because of the accident that had altered the Prince family's lives since that fateful day. Cautiously, she laid a gentle, slim hand upon his hard, firm one as a sign of her comforting him. To witness a smile upon his face once more would be a blessing, indeed.

Viola could sense that there was another reason for her father's arranging a marriage for her other than having his family's reputation in mind. She finally acknowledged his reasoning when he went on to inform her that the love that was the most eternal would most likely result in suffering or pain. Viola did not show emotion as she was sure she would have done had her understanding of his comprehensions were divergent; she just sat there in silent pondering as the awkward silence of the barren park engulfed them. Though Viola did not consent to her father's speech, she maintained the urge to argue her point until she was proven correct, and nodded mutely.

She wondered whom these men her father had in her mind as an eligible husband for her. Were these men interesting, kind, handsome, and charitable? Viola's eyebrows furrowed in suspicion as her father deemed this men "quite amiable and reasonable." Has he not examined or interviewed these men before selecting them worthy enough to court his eldest daughter? Viola blinked and held back her sharp remark of how she refused to be courted by a man of her father's choosing, but was rendered speechless when her father explained that she would still be able to select a man she thought preferable, except of her father's selected men. It did not seem such an unfair bargain, she must admit.

Viola heaved a small sigh of defeat as she finally gazed into her father's eyes for the first time in months, brown connecting with brown, as she responded, a bit resignedly, "I have no wish to quarrel with you over this pressing matter, Father; though I will consent under a certain condition." With another sigh, this time for the courage to go on, she continued, "You must be home for Christmas and give especial attention to Matilda and Victor. Do not fret about myself, I shall be busy with household staff of the Christmas supper and ensuring that Christmas in the Prince household shall go according to custom traditions. You must appear happy, Father." Rubbing the hand she grasped earlier, she said softly, "I understand that you are grieving, Father, but if you cannot be happy that I have learnt to reach out to you, then be happy for Tilda and Victor. They need youà"

tag: Icarus | outfit: none | notes: sorry for the late response! things are just getting back to normal... the post kind of sucks, too, doesn't it?

made by Emily exclusively for Charming

  

[Icarus Prince]

Don't you worry turn around, I'll still be here

He looked down at his hand where Viola had placed her own. A part of him wanted to show acceptance of the gesture but couldn't bring himself to move, feeling rather awkward as he was reminded of the chasm in their relationship. A small, strained smile flickered across his face as if to compensate for what he hadn't the courage to show. He was glad, relieved even, that she was not speaking out against his suggestions as it would only make it harder on the small fraction of his conscience that wanted to think his daughter should marry for love as he had. His happiness with Adelaide might have been cut short but he still didn't regret it, no matter how painful he found the ever present observance of her absence.

And then she verbally confirmed his hopes... with a single drawback. It wasn't the conditions she wished to set upon him that he couldn't handle - for even if it was exceedingly strained and awkward, he was sure he could manage it - but it was the resignation in her voice. He broke the eye contact abruptly to look in the opposite direction. For the first time in a very long time he was moved by something that wasn't the ache of his deceased wife or the pain of mental torture he occasionally subjected himself to in imagining what life could have been like had Adelaide not died, had she not been in the room when the potion went horribly wrong.

He squinted sharply to try and keep his eyes clear as he now felt stung by the fact that he could very well be doing the opposite of what he wanted by picking her future husband. Would she be content in such a set up? Admittedly he would choose a short and sweet marriage with Adelaide every time than a long, practical marriage with an odious and stuffy woman. Finally assured that he had himself under control, he looked down at his hands on his lap and then glanced briefly at his eldest daughter. "What could they possibly need from me? It is their mother they need, not I."

He knew in his heart of hearts that he had failed them as a father but it was this knowledge that kept him from mending the relationship. He had already failed them, he couldn't possibly repair or make up for the damage he had done unintentionally. It had all gone too far and his way of dealing with it, was to run away to his plants and books and memories of Adelaide. After a short while, he finally conceded to at least one thing. "I shall return for Christmas and try to be as you wish. However, I can make no promises."

Tag: Viola Words: 460

created by kay of caution and sds

  

[Viola Prince]

Viola needed to reassurance that she was consoling her father as her hand stayed cautiously upon his; she just knew that he was struggling with how to respond to the kind gesture. Viola, though she was slightly disappointed in his behavior towards her, had taken advantage of the awkward silence between herself and her father to ponder. She has come to the realization that her father just lacked the courage to display his inner-most emotions due to the knowledge that his relationship with his children was deteriorating. The small, strained smile that flickered across his aging face was proof for her theory and the little resentment she felt towards her father in the beginning of their discussion had vanished. At least he was attempting to be grateful for his eldest daughter's kind and generous (if small) gesture.

Viola was aware that she quite resembled her mother in both appearance and behavior. She had often received compliments from the senior staff of her household, the staff that were present when her mother had been alive, that the aforementioned statement was very much truthful. Viola only had vague memories of her mother so she could not claim to be a different version of her mother, but she wondered if this was true in her father's eyes. Was she truly like her mother like many others have claimed? Viola was a bit frightened to inquire of her father, in case he would abruptly take his leave, but her curiosity her piqued. For the conclusion, however, Viola had decided to stay silent to spare him the painful and guilty memories of his beloved wife, and dutiful mother of his children.

Her father's question astonished her. Viola whipped her head around to meet his curious gaze with wide, startled cinnamon brown eyes. "How could you question such a situation of your youngest children requiring your presence?," she inquired, her tone of voice authoritative and passion-filled with the devotedness to her siblings. "Matilda is quite certain that you do not want to be bothered with a second daughter. Those moments when she visits you in your greenhouse is her attempting to reconnect with you. Victor...," she trailed off. Victor has grown up without the constant presence of her father. Matilda had, as well, but at least he was attentive to her when she was a young, baby girl. "Victor hardly knows anything about you other than your passion for potioneering and plants. He hardly has any recollection of Mother, only the stories I recite to both him and Matilda when they ask for them. Her face began to fade in my memories at age thirteen...," she trailed off once again, her voice breaking slightly.

"It is your performing the duties expected of you as a father is what I am seeking," she said in a hoarse tone from concealing the sobs threating to overcome her petite built. "I have grown used to the situation, but Matilda and Victor are still yearning to reconnect with you despite the evident fact that it may be futile." She lifted her head to stare at him with piercing, expectant eyes as she continued in the same hoarse tone, "Enjoy the expectations of an eldest daughter. Please do send word of when you will be expected home. Your room shall be arranged and tended to meet your every comfort. But I must now take my leave. Thank you for taking the time to speak to me. It was most unexpected." Then with a small, grief-filled smile, she lifted herself from the bench, and with grace and poise she began to walk back to her carriage.

Then an unpleasant though entered her thoughts. She would more than likely suffer through another one of her father's butler's continuous attentions. The man unsettled her greatly. A man that offers himself as her own personal heater for carriage rides is something any woman would be nervous about. Biting her lip, Viola hesitantly turned around to address her father once more, "Father, would you terribly mind escorting me to my carriage?" For the first time in many years, Viola was actually displaying a venerability that even astonished herself, but her face was composed in one of hopefulness which masked her astonishment. This man truly did frighten her.

tag: Icarus | outfit: none | notes: none

made by Emily exclusively for Charming

  

[Icarus Prince]

Don't you worry turn around, I'll still be here

The nature of his daughter's response; the tone, the emotion... It surprised him to say the very least. He couldn't understand how he could possibly be needed by his children. His children needed a mother, not a father who could only provide financial security and little else more. At least that was how he saw it. He couldn't possibly think of anything that he could do for them. He was certain that if he spent more time around them that they would only see his flawed self for what it really was and they would resent him for it. That was the last thing he wanted but he simply couldn't express this concern.

It pained him greatly to hear that Adelaide was slowly vanishing from the memories of her own children. Truth be told, his own memories of her grew faint and distorted at times, though he at least had a few mementos and photographs of her that he could look on, ones he had selfishly kept to himself. As it was, he could not bring himself to respond, for he had no answer he could make. He listened on, his eyes focused solely on a patch of grass in front of him, not moving and not speaking. He knew he was not performing his duties as a father, he knew it and yet he didn't know what he was supposed to do. The situation was hopeless and he could only see one option and that was to run away from the situation.

He made no movement or utterance of speech as she proceeded to make her departure, guilt, shame and inner conflict keeping him rooted to the spot. He knew something had to change, he knew it in his gut and yet he also knew that he was afraid and that he wanted to hide in his work, to make excuses, to put it off until something forced him to do something.

He buried his face in his hands and prepared to mull over his thoughts glumly, that is until Viola's voice caught his attention once again. Her request surprised him and he could not think of why she would want him to escort her when she had apparently made the same journey without any company to get there in the first place. Nonetheless, he could not object. "Not at all," he replied in a subdued manner, slowly getting to his feet and walking over to his daughter, eyes still seeking the floor for comfort.

Tag: Viola Words: 413

created by kay of caution and sds

  

[Viola Prince]

Viola nodded, relief flooding from her head to her toes to know that she would not have to subject herself to be handed into the carriage by the man whom was most keenly aware of her attractiveness. Those ice blue eyes of the man were unnerving whenever they gaze upon her form appreciatively, licking his lips as if satisfied with what he saw. She felt so very vulnerable and timid in the man's presence that it took all of her courage to behave with grace and certainty that she had been brought up to act. She had only ever confessed the vexing behavior of her father's carriage man to her ladies' maid, Antonina; but the maid never looked her in the eye as she responded, "Edmund was always quite the flirt with handsome ladies such as yourself, but he was never intentionally harm them." However, Viola seemed to detect a bit of uncertainty in the young woman's voice, and it concerned her.

As Viola took a hold of his arm, she laid her head upon his shoulder and whispered gratefully, "Thank you." She was aware that this was a shocking change for him and she wanted to let him know that she was grateful for this one little request he was performing. Lifting her head, she began the walk to the carriage, her silence sparing him the need to respond. What he was doing was enough.

Once the carriage was in view, she held in her sharp intake of breath when she saw that the carriage man was waiting patiently next to carriage. Those blue eyes seemed to bore into the very core of her being and she involuntarily clutched her father's arm gently as if he were her personal protection. She realized the lust in the man's eyes and half-heartedly wondered if her father saw it, as well. "Miss Prince," the carriage man uttered out politely as the emotion in his eyes became stony and undetectable as he realized his employer's presence, holding out his hand as he was expected to.

Viola did not take the young man's hand at just that moment as she stared upon at her father, her hand tilting up his chin gently so that he would look at her instead of the ground. "I have your eyesà," she whispered as if just realizing it for the first time. Shaking her head, the loose dark brown tendrils swinging back and forth, she continued, "Father, I wish you well; truly, I do. You may have neglected to be there for me all of these years, but just know that I still deeply love you just as I love Matilda and Victor. While Mother's death was certainly preventable; it was an accident, nonetheless, and accidents do occur in life whether we like it or not. I am not saying that all things happen for a reason as I am not that foolish to believe in such nonsense, but accidents do happen. So please," she implored with him, their same colored eyes boring into one another's, her finger tips still tilting his chin towards her, "stop torturing yourself. You are not to blame for Mother's death. She was excited about Tilda's first correctly formed sentence was all, and she startled you. You. Are. Not. To. Blame."

Then she let go of his chin; intentionally avoided touching the flesh of the carriage man as she hoisted herself into the carriage, and situated herself for the short journey back to the Prince household where dinner was supposedly being served. "Goodbye, Father," she called out, "I shall see you at Christmas if we do not cross paths once more this month."

tag: icarus | outfit: none | notes: Er...what's the name for a carriage man, again? lol xD

made by Emily exclusively for Charming

  

[Icarus Prince]

Don't you worry turn around, I'll still be here

In all reality, it was more than overdue for him to move on from Adelaide and the tragedy that was her passing. There was no amount of guilt, no amount of mourning or regret that could bring her back and he needed to accept that, though that was far easier said than actually done. He didn't know how to react as Viola rested her head upon his shoulder; he wanted to be the father he had started off as but things had changed, he had changed and he didn't know how. He was lost without Adelaide and couldn't find the way back.

Icarus sensed the tension in his daughter as they grew closer to the carriage and his brow furrowed; he did not see the ulterior motive in the servant, only an inexplicable reaction. He was curious as to what was causing it but failed to inquire any further. It was all forgotten swiftly when she made a final emotive speech, a speech which he knew deep down he ought to say something in acknowledgement and understanding of but could not move himself to. As isolated as he had subconsciously striven to make his heart, her words still tugged at it. What was he to do though? It was too late. It was all too late. Too late to watch his children grow up, too late to save Adelaide, too late to forge any sort of bond with his children; Victor and Matilda especially.

"You are not to blame." Oh but he was! He was and that was just it! If he had only taken to plants before... Adelaide would be with him now, radiant and proud of her children. And he would be a father. A real father and husband. "Take care," he murmured as she bade him good bye. It was all he really could say.

Tag: Viola Words: 308

created by kay of caution and sds