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|Subject Post 1Subject: Dum spiro spero. Thu Jul 16, 2020 6:47 pm|| |
Desmond| A Father
The early morning hours where the time in Vastime where the sun had not rose enough to let the heat disturb people, and where the beginnings of tomorrow. Tomorrow having not been promised for the longest, once a year a go such a thing seemed impossible. How things had changed for the world, and the man Desmond Hayden. As he settled into his role not as a warrior king, but a statesman. How he sat and listened to the plies of foreign dignitaries and the arguing of his Cortes on the issues of life. Some may curse such an existence, as it wore on the mental of a man.
But for Desmond he found no greater peace, than in the peace which allowed men to voice their concerns freely. Some days he simply found himself overcome with emotion before he began the day, as to know such a world now existents in peace. He could place his sword on the mantle, and be with his family. He could be, no longer, the soldier. As he walked through the halls of his house, a callous hand slid across cherry wood furniture as if just admiring for the moment how far he'd come. However, such thoughts where rendered mute as he arrived at the room he looked for.
A hand would go to the door handle, gripping it softly turning it with the utmost care. He did not want to disturb the occupant. But once he opened it softly he stepped inside, notably wearing his uniform. After this visit, he'd need to go about his duties. Yet he would not waste this small time as he walked up to a cradle, gazing into it he saw the small form laying in it. Gripping a brown teddy bear he had gotten for them in a haste, perhaps that innate fatherly want to shower his daughter in gifts. The thin pale hair on their head, the soft shifts of their movements as they slept, caused a tightening within the chest of Hayden.
This was his daughter, his wife and his own only child. Words caught in his throat as he stared down at her. How such a small beautiful thing could come from him was beyond his knowledge or words. The world he had fought for, and died for, now was closer than ever. A world he would hand to her, a world he'd be around to teach her in. A hand came up to his mouth slowly, gripping it softly, as his eyes closed. A wetness touching his eyes as he allowed himself in this private moment, to enjoy what was the fruits of his labor.
His only wish, his only desire, from that moment fourth, was to be there for her.
END POST | I Love You, Anastasia