Kids These Days

[Samuel Faulkner]

Sam felt that he was caught somewhere between genuine concern for his daughter's safety and frustration with the both of them. Clearly he hadn't done enough to instill a sense of duty in his children--or at the very least, in Lydia. Sam would have placed duty above most anything else. He'd have even placed it above love if he had to. He only pursued it now because he was free to do so.

He was, at that moment, sitting in Opal's drawing room, still waffling between these two feelings, as he'd been doing for two months now. Though mostly concern was winning out as time went on.

"I wonder if we should hold off on plans," Sam mused. It seemed cruel to make them wait longer when they'd already needed to wait so long as it was, but if it had to be done, it had to be done.

@'Emmeline Woodcroft'

  

[Opal Faulkner]

Opal had actually been looking at some fashion plates for the wedding when she heard her fiance's words. She didn't exactly need a wedding gown but it would be nice to have a new dress for such an occasion, especially since she'd been stuck in mourning colors for so long. But regardless of what her thoughts had been about the dress, she hadn't expected Sam to say what he had ended up saying.

Lowering the plates slowly into her lap, she looked at the man she'd fallen in love with when the rest of the world had gone to hell in a handbasket. Blue eyes were wide as she regarded him, doing her best not to betray the disappointment she felt at such a statement even if she fully understood why.

"If you think it best," she said softly, even if it was the last thing she really wanted to do. She couldn't understand Lydia's sudden disappearance. She could understand the young girl's frustration over being betrothed to a man she didn't quite care for but she'd been in a rather similar situation herself. Not that she had despised Francis or anything, and they had managed to make their marriage work in a quite amicable way. She supposed the younger generation just didn't quite understand their duty to their families or the headaches they could cause in such manners.

  

[Samuel Faulkner]

"I'm honestly not sure what would be best in this situation," Sam said with a sigh. He certainly didn't have any reasonable experience to draw from for this matter. No one close to him had ever acted so foolishly, as far as he was aware. "My thought is mostly that we have a great deal to focus on at the moment." He shook his head.

  

[Opal Faulkner]

Opal lifted the fashion plates once more but only to set them aside so that she could stand up. Once that was done, she moved to sit next to him, taking his hands in hers and resting them on her lap. She looked at him with concern and worry, her lips pursed slightly.

"We will make it through this, Samuel," she said confidently, giving his hands a gentle squeeze, "We've been through far worse and we can surely do this together. We'll take it to the prophet and get the word out that way. Perhaps someone has seen her and can help reassure our minds." Though, what exactly would be reassuring she wasn't sure. Lydia had either run away or was dead, neither option was of the happy variety.

  

[Samuel Faulkner]

Sam returned the squeeze, attempting something of a smile. He was grateful, at least, that he had Opal. Merlin knew what this ordeal would have been like on his own. He shuddered to think.

"You're right," Sam said, nodding. "There are still things that can be done." He wasn't expecting the happiest of outcomes, but living in limbo almost seemed worse. Not knowing was a curse in and of itself.