The shop had been due for a good cleaning for quite a while. She'd gotten so wrapped up in preparing for war, courting, and a jumble of things that she had neglected getting everything in order until she couldn't stand it. The cold, brisk air of winter would bring life back into the shop as she swept out the dust bunnies, and all the dirt she'd manage to track in. It wasn't until then that she even started on the shelves. So many little trinkets, little items that had never been picked up, going years and years back...Surely their owners weren't coming back for them now, she could sell them and make a profit. Wedding rings, necklaces, the stock went farther back than she could remember. It wasn't until she found a small blade tucked in the back, forgotten, that she finally became curious. She didn't remember making this.
It wasn't until she polished it up that she remembered the handiwork. Turning the iron over in her hands, she sighed, running her fingers over the dulled edges. This wasn't one of hers. This was her father's.
~~~~~~~~~
“Papa, what happened to Mama?”
Morgan stopped, hammer in midair as the curious voice chimed in from behind him. Curious and curiouser, she was more of a cat than the meek little mouse he’d expected. With a deep sigh, he finally set the hammer aside, turning to meet her bright eyes, the girl clutching her precious stuffed bear. He bent down to her level, seeing the determination in her eyes, a determination he knew too well.
“Hasn’t Papa told you before?” He sighed, ruffling her hair as she closed her eyes shut.
“But you’re not telling me anything!” She pouted, “You just say she went away, you never talk about Mama. Going away doesn’t tell me anything!”
“Mama went away, and that’s all you’re going to get out of me, child. You know I don’t like talking about Mama.” There was a deep pain that still resonated inside him. Sometimes he’d dream of Lily standing just out of reach, and laughing as he tried to get to her, holding out her hand for his. Other times he’d see her clinging to a ledge, begging for him to rescue her with fearful eyes. He’d always be too late. She’d fall, screaming for him. He feared the same dreams would one day come to his daughter, his precious only little girl, if he told her. Besides, she didn’t need to mourn her mother’s passing, she didn’t need to know she killed her.
It seemed to work, furious eyes meeting his, but she didn’t say another word, clinging tighter to the poor bear. Making it a point to stamp her feet, she went and sat down in her chair, glaring at him from across the room as he got back to the forge. If didn’t matter, he got that look a lot.
~~~
She laughed the slightest, smiling fondly at the memory. Ah, if only she'd known better. Sometimes it was better to leave things unspoken.
With the shelves dusted, of course, that only left the floor more dirty, and it required another good sweeping. It took another two times to fling the grime out on to the street before she finally filled up a bucket with water to get to scrubbing the floor. She wanted this shop to shine, after all. Somewhere along the way, the brush started to poke through the floor boards, leaving her confused until she looked. A few of them didn't fit quite well with the others, of different, slightly newer wood. Why was that?
No, that was right, they'd had to replace the floor boards after she all but burnt through a few of them after trying to smelt some metal herself. The aftermath hadn't been pretty, she'd just accidentally knocked the kettle...
~~~~~~~~~~
He was furious with her. Sitting with his arms neatly folded, legs crossed, he glared at his daughter as she had her arm looked over by a doctor. The girl was returning the glare with the same intensity, and the doctor couldn’t help but tease at the family resemblance. It wasn’t until they returned home that they even said a word to each other, looking at the now cooled split iron on their floor, and the toppled kettle laying in the corner.
“You’re not to go near the forge again.”
“Well you’re not to either, I knew what I was <********> doing.” She hisses back, reminiscent of the sound of the boiling water upon the coals. He brings up a hand and smacks her plain across the cheek, to which she balls her fists.
“Young lady, you heard me, and watch your language, else I’ll sell your books.”
“Well that’ll just make everything better now won’t it? I’m going to forge if I want to, old man, and just because I’m a girl doesn’t make me any less of a smith than I was born to be!”
“You were born for nothing.” He finally yells back, snapping at her. She doesn’t reply which only makes him angrier. “It’s because of you your mother is dead. I’m not losing you to the forge if you’re just going to almost get yourself killed. I don’t care if it’s just a burn, if you’re damned clumsy enough to cause this mess, then you’re as good as dead!”
“Well at least she doesn’t have to deal with you anymore! I bet she’s happy she’s dead!” It came out before she could even think, and she saw the immediate change in her father’s eyes. All that fury was gone in an instant, replaced by the pain he’d been hiding from her all those years. She sucked in her breath, expecting another sharp sting across her cheek, but it never happened. Instead, he just left, pushing past her as she could only turn to see the door shut.
She’d never regretted something so much in her entire life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She couldn't help but wince, touching the spot on her arm that still held the slightest indication of a scar. It was smoother than the rest of her skin, and felt like a part of her had been taken away. She'd probably taken away something from her father that day too.
It wasn't until she finally finished that she relaxed, looking over the small metal blade she'd found again. This had been one of his last works, obviously. The tempering was off. But he'd gotten so sick near the end, she didn't want to remember it. But it had been near this time of year, hadn't it?
~~~~~~~~
“C’mon old man, just a little more.”
Morgan struggled with the water as he swallowed again, breathing unsteadily as he finally collapsed onto the bed. It was so hard to breathe, he felt so cold. His hands were shaking so badly, and he just wanted this to be over. He barely managed to turn his head to see his daughter, his precious little girl, set the glass down on the bedside table. He knew that look. It wasn’t good.
“The doctor….What did the doctor say?” He manages to wheeze out, coughing heavily again. It hurt, it hurt so bad. Seeing her wrinkle her nose and turn away from him, he wants to desperately to press her for answers, but instead he hacks, finally coughing up more liquid into the cloth held to his mouth. The girl wipes his mouth clean again, finally tossing the wet rag into the corner.
“C’mon….I have every right to know what he had to say.” Morgan attempts again, closing his eyes. He can feel the sweat pouring off of his forehead, but it feels more like he’s out in freezing rain than anything. His muscles are aching, and he just wants to be down by his forge, where it might be warmer. Again, his daughter refuses to answer, instead going to his drawers to grab another cloth, wiping off his forehead again. He tries to catch his breath, but it’s getting hard. He just wants to be better, he wants to go back to work.
“Rosalie…” He finally catches her hand. She’s grown up so much in her 16 years, she’s no longer that tiny bundle he held after his Lily passed away in this bed. But her eyes….His eyes, look back to him, and he can finally see that pain. It can’t be good, she’s kept strong this far.
“It’s…are you sure…?” She’s gotten quiet, and doesn’t want to meet his eyes. It’s bad, she’s not trying to pull away. Morgan barely manages to nod, hands shaking from the cold. Why can’t he be down by the forge?
“C’mon now, when has your old man ever turned down a challenge?” He manages a weak smile, feeling like he’s going to start hyper ventilating from just talking. It wasn’t this hard to breathe yesterday, was it? There’s a long pause before he finally sees her face fall, finally watches that hardened young thing she’s become fade.
“It’s pneumonia.” She finally admits, and when his grip on her wrist, already weak, weakens, she’s quick to take to holding his hand, looking down at her lap instead. He can see her shoulders shaking the slightest, how badly she’s trying to just keep it all in. The two just stay quiet for a long while, only broken by his coughing and wheezing.
“How much longer?” It’s finally him that breaks the silence. He deserves to know how long he has left, how long he can take to make everything up to his daughter. She shakes her head no, only to let him grip her hand tighter. “Come on now, be strong. Where’s that smith I—“
“Dunno, soon...” She manages to breathe, still not looking up. Morgan feels like he’s just broken her heart, and it isn’t long until he hears the drips of water start to fall on the leather of her apron. She’s done such a good job of taking over when he’s sick, such a good job of working alongside him. He’s raised her well, he knows that much. Lily would be so proud..
“Rosa, doll…C’mere.” He tugs on her hand the slightest, trying his best to smile. She only tries to pull away, but he’s got just enough left in him to tug back at her hand. It isn’t long before he’s holding her over him, rubbing her back. “C’mon, it’s okay to let it out, it’s better to let it out…”
“’M not crying you idiot.” Her voice says completely otherwise, absolutely heartbroken. It isn’t until he finally manages to convince her into his arms that it all just starts spilling out, and he can’t help but try to soothe her. She’s been so strong through it all, especially with the customers that laugh at her and ask for him instead. He’s heard them from up here, and heard the way she bites her tongue, just imagining the facial expressions she makes. Oh so much like Lily, and yet still so much like him…
“Your mother’d be so proud…Grown up so strong, so beautiful…” Hell, he was proud. Even with all of their fights, even with every single time they’d thrown things at each other, nothing was ever going to take away how much he loved his little spitfire smith. Not even dying could take that away from him. “I was so scared when you were born, you know that? Didn’t think I could be a good dad without your mom around. But even with me raising you, you turned out right somewhere along the line.” He teased, hearing the slight choke of a laugh from his shoulder.
“You’re going to be one of the greats.” He finally breathes, kissing her hair as he tries harder. “I bet you’ll end up the Queen’s personal smith. Only my daughter could ever achieve that.”
“No way, I can’t do it without you….” She insists, her grip tightening on his shirt. “I can’t do it without you pushing me, I just can’t.”
“You can do anything you put your mind to.” He laughs, wondering where that girl full of fire he fought with so often went. “Where’s that girl of mine that cusses like a sailor and makes men tremble in their boots when they displease her, hmm? Where’s my little smith?”
“Gone, fled the country, never coming back.” Gods, such a miserable answer. “I can’t do this without you, I can’t run the shop without you here. I can’t do this without you, Papa, you can’t leave me. You can’t leave me behind!” Her cheeks are streaked with tears when she finally meets his eyes, her own red and puffy. He’s never seen her this miserable, never seen her cry like this. She was so strong, she never shed tears in front of him just to spite him. And yet here she was, finally cracking.
“Rosa.” He wants her to stop crying, he can feel his own tears welling up in his eyes. He doesn’t want to leave her behind, he wants to watch her grow further, he wants to scare off the boys who come and try to steal his little girl’s heart away….He wants to see himself become a grandfather, to have a family besides just the two of them, but he’s already feeling weakness overtaking him. It’s getting harder to breathe, he can feel the rattling in his lungs. “You take the world by storm, alright? Anything you need to do to be happy, do it. It’s going to be hard, I know it’s going to be hard. But you can’t give up, alright? And if anyone, and I mean anyone ever insults you or tries to throw you down…make sure they regret messing with Morgan’s daughter. Promise me that.” He offers a shaking pinky, trying to smile, trying to reassure her.
She doesn’t want to argue, and immediately laces hers with his, trying to fight back the tears. “I promise. I promise I won’t let you down. I’ll work in this shop until I die, I won’t let anyone take it from me, I promise you papa, I promise I’ll make you proud. I’ll be the best smith that Sunderland’s ever had I…” She paused, eyes searching for a reaction on his face. “Papa…?” He was still, eyes closed with a smile on his face, but didn’t move a muscle. “Papa?” It was just a little bit more desperate, a little bit more quiet. No no no, not now, she wasn’t finished damn it! She tried and tried to wake him up, all but screaming near the end. Come on, old man don’t leave me alone now, don’t leave me when I’m not done talking to you, don’t leave me all alone in the world!
It wasn’t until she slammed her fist into his chest, wailing in desperation, that she finally knew she’d never get to finish.
~~~~~~~~~
She can't even bring up the energy to even think when she gets up, leaving the dagger behind before going out the door, Aelius at her heels. He's poking at her worriedly, unsure she's okay. She's not responding in the slightest to him, not saying a word to anyone who greets her on the street, not until she silently buys a bouquet of flowers.
He has no idea why she's leading him just out of town too. It's cold, she should go home, she didn't even bring her coat! She's going to catch a cold like this, she's going to get sick. It isn't until she finally stops in front of two tiny stones and crouches down that he figures they've reached their destination. But why here? It's cold.
"Hey old man." She finally breathes after a while, Aelius finally stopping his poking and prodding. "It's been years, hasn't it? Sorry for not visiting." Who in the world is she talking to? There's no one here. There's only these two rocks, and he finds it all rather silly.
"I hope I've done you proud. I'm...I'm alright, I guess. Been doing alright without you. I guess you were right, I really could handle the shop on my own." Aelius huffs as she continues, finally deciding to settle in next to her. He listens as she just talks, about how business is going, about the war, about how he's her guardian....about how she's fallen in love....It isn't until she lets out another deep sigh, breath freezing in the air before her as she watches it. Silence just seems to take her, and they're left to sit listening to the cool winter breeze rustle through the empty branches.
"It's not the same without you here." She finally breaks the silence. "I wish you were still here. I've done so many stupid things in my life, I hope you'll forgive me." He notices her breath hitches rather suddenly, and she holds it for just a moment before letting it out. "I said a lot of things I regret to you. I wish I had been a better daughter when you were still here. I wish I'd become something you could have been proud of." Aelius doesn't understand, he's confused why she's sounding more and more upset, why her voice just keeps getting the slightest bit higher with each breath, why she's sniffling.
"I just miss you so much papa." She finally cracks, curling up into herself and hugging the flowers she's purchased tight. "I wish you were here. I wish I could just tell you how much I still love you, how much I'm thankful that you were there for me. God knows I didn't do it enough when you were still here..."
They end up staying there for a long time, just sitting in the cold as she holds the flowers close. It takes about an hour before she finally lays the bouquet down between the two graves and stands, drying her tears on her sleeves before turning to go home. Aelius hesitates for a moment, still not fully understanding the grief he's just felt with her, though reluctantly follows, leaving the resting place in peace once more.
