\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1934682-Stormy-Night
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: E · Draft · Fantasy · #1934682
Alicia remembers a stormy night in the arms of her father, Blaise.
Alicia looked out the balcony, a storm was blowing in over the city. An adept from Cereus House slept in her bed. Even in sleep, he looked of frail beauty. She smiled and turned back to watch the storm. Despite it being spring, the dance of the lightning in the sky brought back a memory from so long ago.

* * * *
A storm had blown in off the mountains, and seven year old Alicia found herself being dragged into bed with Vivianne, Marguerite and Cordelia, protesting the entire time. "I'm not scared, let me go back to my room. Let go of me!" She squirmed and yelled at them, but they merely held onto her and hid under the covers, screaming out when the thunder was loud. Finally resigned, Alicia sulked, and finally when the storm settled, the girls fell asleep. She slipped out of the bed, feeling annoyed. She wanted to watch the storm, not cower like a little girl.

Instead of going to back to her own room, Alicia slipped downstairs and into the patio garden in the back. It was canopied, with well grown flowers and herbs. She could smell the lavender that grew around the small effigy of Elua. A brazier was still lit from earlier, and she climbed into her father's chair. When he visited, he could be found there on summer evenings, usually a glass of strong cordial in his hand. She missed him, a lot, when he was gone. Unlike the other children, she looked like Blaise, with her blue eyes and dusty blonde hair. She heard the servants, and her own sister, whisper that she had his temper too. Except, she never saw his temper. The other girls loved their father, but they feared him as well. But not Alicia.

She sat in his chair, huddled a little, for the rain brought a bit of relief from the heat, so the evening was cooler. Almost too cold for her delicate, child skin. Still, she could see the storm blowing away from them. The lightning seems to dance in a myriad of colors across the sky. It was beautiful. In the distance, the thunder was fading, much to her disappointment.

She heard the door to the patio open, and the click of hard boots on the paving stones. Her father leaned on the chair and looked down at her, the glow of the brazier lighting his blue eyes, partially amused, but there was a hint of something else there. She merely smiled at him. He took off the jacket he wore. With a grin, he scooped her up and sat down, her on his lap. He wrapped the jacket around her. "You're up late, Alicia." His voice was deep, but soft.

"I wanted to watch the storm. The girls wouldn't let me, but they fell asleep." She clutched his jacket. It smelled like him. He was her favorite person. She was old enough to understand things now- a few years ago she would've told everyone that she was going to marry him, as younger daughters tended to say about the fathers they adored. Now she understood that her father was married to her mother, and that she would grow up and marry another one day.

Growing up, she was told that she was a terrible baby. She fussed at her mother's breasts, and cried more often then naught. She rejected the wet nurse, only taking in her mother's offering. She kicked and cried and screamed for everyone. Except in Blaise's arms. The nurses spoke of it eerily. The estate would grow quiet whenever Blaise was home from the city, and he held Alicia. She was the first child he ever had shown much of an interest in, but even from the day Cécile gave birth to her, she bore the stamp of his seed. He hadn't even shown disappointment in the fact that she was yet another girl, at least not in front of the others, as he had with the other girls.

He merely nodded at her, his hand on her head. He had only been home a few days. Mother was ill again, though no one would tell Alicia what was wrong. Alicia knew though- her mother was forgetting things, occasionally getting confused. A few times Alicia could've sworn that her mother had looked at her and had not known who Alicia was. Of such, Blaise didn't speak much. Tonight Alicia could tell he was sad, though her child innocence prevented her from reaching out to do anything. She curled against him, enjoying the moment with him.

"When will you head back?" She asked at a whisper. A loud clap of thunder. Perhaps another storm was moving in. Alicia didn't flinch.

"In the morning." He answered. If she pouted, he could not see it.

"For a long time?" The wind picked up a little again, and there was another clap of thunder. The rain picked up again, though not as heavy. It brought the scent of lavender again.

He nodded. "For a long time." It made her sad, but she didn't say anything. Instead she curled against him tighter. She wished she could go with him. The girls coddled her, while he doted. And in the way only a child does, she fell asleep in his arms, his warmth making her forget that the night air was chilly, the rain, and the oncoming storm.

She woke the next morning, tucked neatly into bed, his jacket laid out over the covers and herself. She didn't know if it had stormed again, though her sisters said it did. She slept soundly through it. She hugged his jacket, smelling him again, and ran downstairs.

"He's gone already." Adrienne said, kindly but with little affection. She seemed tired, a fresh bruise on her cheek. She must've spoke out of turn. Alicia glared at her, but didn't respond. Tears began to fall but she ran back to her room, slamming and locking the door so no one could see her cry. The servants had to clean up the glass of a mirror she broke, and the little glass figurine she had thrown into it. It was only after her tantrum did she noticed the little doll he left in her bed. Picking it up, she grabbed her other dolls, and played outside in his chair.

* * * * *
She eyed the doll her father had given her, and then climbed back into bed with her lovely adept. He stirred, his pale eyes fluttering open. Grinning playfully, she took advantage of his awakening, and stayed up another few hours.
© Copyright 2013 Shannon Pixie (shannonpixie at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1934682-Stormy-Night