g ↔ f ↔ ρ (chickidy) wrote in valesco,
@ 2010-05-17 22:32:00

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"Are you sure?"

Tristan nodded to his mother, his blue eyes wide as he stared up at her. Despite understanding that her child felt perfectly temperate, Glenda still pulled his coat closer to his chest and gently pushed his hat down to cover his face. For her, the temperature had nothing to do with it; anxiety and annoyance did. Anxiety because they still had twenty minutes until it was time to depart for their portkey, and annoyance because Rhys Nott had dared to attack them in the middle of the city just a few hours ago. Fortunately, Alice had been there....

Glenda glanced over at her friend, feeling nothing but brusque. Logically speaking, she knew she should be thankful that Alice was trained for things like this, and would make all the right decisions. Leaving Milan was without a doubt the safest option for Tristan at this point, but that didn't stop Glenda from feeling downright bitter about going back to England so soon. She wasn't ready yet, Tristan wasn't ready yet--- but there was no choice. They couldn't risk another attack: Tristan was too young, and soon the press might get wind of things, not to mention the location of their house might get revealed in the mix of it all. So, for the time being, back to England they went.

A sigh escaped her lips as she waited for another minute to pass by. She knew that this would be the time to talk with Alice, or at least something, but Glenda couldn't quite bring herself to turn and open her mouth to the other woman just yet.

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chickidy
2010-05-27 03:56 am UTC (link)

Whatever she wanted?

No. No, Alice shouldn't say that: she couldn't give Glenda whatever she wanted. No one could. Alice couldn't restore her home, couldn't undo all the terrible things that had happened to them in the past year, and she certainly could not bring Gideon back. A beaten-down feeling suddenly filled her as a worn face finally broke through.

She missed Gideon so much--- unbelievably so to the point where she couldn't even begin to describe what it felt like. The pain was constant, with no day getting any better than the last. It wasn't--- she couldn't--- without Tristan, Glenda wasn't sure how she could have survived this long. The only thing keeping her in check was her son-- his son. He had already lost a father, it would be plain selfish to take away his mother as well. But being constantly left to her own thoughts, all she could wander to was the memory of him. All the mistakes she had made, all the fights she had started with him---

Glenda's cheeks flushed as a rare break through of emotion occurred. Just thinking of him--- her eyes locked on Alice, suddenly thinking of how she would react to Frank's death. It was impossible to think at this point, as of late becoming an obsession of Glenda's to place others in her position. How would Alice react? Would she do the same thing Alice was doing for her now? Would it even---

"Mamma!"

Tristan's voice broke her out of her trance, causing her to quickly attend to whatever it was. Glenda blinked slowly, her eyes low again as she returned to watching Alice. "It would be best if no one knew about our return. That's what I want."

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