Waltfeld's Daughter Chapter 1
YEAHHHHHHHHHH! SEQUEL TIME!
Amarante loves being Waltfeld's daughter and although she's the apple of his eye, she has her secrets.
"There he is," Amarante whispered into a headset. She carefully observed a man walking up the stairs to enter her home.
"You got a clear shot?" Waltfeld whispered on other end.
"Nah, he's behind the pillar. I think it'll be better if we ambush him on the floor," Amarante answered.
"No try a new position first. I'll unlock the door, see if you can get him on the inside," Waltfeld answered.
"Roger that," Amarante answered picking up her rifle hurrying off to her next position. "I'm here."
"How's your shot?" Waltfeld asked.
"He's still knocking on the door. I can't see him," Amarante muttered hiding behind a pillar. Her heart pounded in her chest fiercely as she heard the door creak open and the man entered mustering a hello.
"Can you take the shot?" Waltfeld asked.
"I..I don't know," Amarante answered weakly.
"Amarante be brave," Waltfeld cooed gently before becoming stern, "Can you take the shot?" Peeking over her shoulder Amarante notice the man was in perfect position to take him out.
"Yes," she whispered.
"Then take him out," Waltfeld answered coldly. Amarante gulped peeking out from her hiding spot taking aim at the man's chest and firing a few bursts at him. She immediately hid exhaling her held breath.
"I HATE YOU TWO!" the man cried out feeling the small sting of airsoft pellets. Amarante giggled softly almost feeling guilty, for the poor man.
"Come on DaCosta can't you have a little fun?" Waltfeld asked emerging from the shadows.
"You're going to give me a heart attack," DaCosta answered inhaling deeply.
"Well you have to congratulate Amarante; she was the one who took you out," Waltfeld answered signaling his daughter to come out of hiding.
"Hi, and sorry Mr. DaCosta," Amarante answered.
"DaCosta's fine Amarante. Just because the war ended doesn't mean you have to call me Mr. DaCosta," DaCosta sighed. Waltfeld always made her out to be a pure angel but she was just as sinister and evil as he was.
"It's great to see you again DaCosta," Amarante cheered hugging her friend. He stiffened as Amarante squeezed him tightly.
"Yes," DaCosta sighed. "I came here to give you this." He held out a fine embroidered letter which Waltfeld took suspiciously.
"What is it?" Amarante asked as her father read it to himself.
"WELLLL you're tying the knot!" Waltfeld boomed slapping DaCosta's back. He gagged looking up at his dynamic ex-commander.
"WITH FRITZI? CONGRATS DACOSTA!" Amarante cheered squeezing him again. He pushed the girl away gently so he could get something else off his chest.
"Yeah but I'm here to ask something else as well," DaCosta said almost above a whisper. I think this is one of the few times I've seen DaCosta blush, Amarante thought as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head.
"Go on…You know Amarante and I have little time on our hands," Waltfeld ordered in a playful manner. Of course you don't when you're playing tricks on people, DaCosta thought angrily.
"Well, Commander…I mean sir…ah…Andrew, could you be my best man and Amarante could you be a junior bridesmaid for Fritzi?" DaCosta asked meekly. He was afraid about how they would respond to his request.
"I'm flatter DaCosta," Waltfeld answered with a small chuckle.
"JUNIOR bridesmaid?" Amarante gasped with excitement. She had never been to a wedding OR been in the bridal party! What a thrilling adventure!
"Well you're too old to the flower girl," DaCosta chuckled.
"HEY!" Waltfeld snapped possessively grabbing his daughter. "How could DaCosta? Making fun of Amarante like that calling her a junior bridesmaid! She's OBVIOUSLY the flower girl!" DaCosta couldn't hold in his laugh as a look of pure horror graced Amarante's face.
"DAD!" Amarante whined punching him in the shoulder.
"Aren't you adorable?" he cooed grabbing her cheeks. "You'll be one cute flower, I mean junior bridesmaid."
"Well if you'll excuse me," DaCosta asked politely.
"WAIIIIIT a minute! Are you going back home?" Waltfeld asked fiendishly.
"I'm almost afraid to say yes," DaCosta gulped.
"Take her with you," Waltfeld ordered pointing a thumb at his daughter.
"I would but Fritzi and I are going out to dinner, besides Amarante has been attached to your hip. I'm pretty sure she doesn't want to leave your side just yet," DaCosta answered.
"Exactly," Amarante replied wrapping her arms around her father's midsection. His walking has improved since the end of the war BUT he couldn't go very far without having to rest or take a small tumble.
"Amarante you should be out meeting guys and doing other things girls your age do," Waltfeld complained.
"I did he's just six feet under," Amarante said cheerfully before becoming serious. "I'm not ready to move-on yet…Nicol was everything to me."
"Of course honey. I'm not telling to get over him; I just don't want you to close your heart," Waltfeld answered. "You can let go of me, I have my cane."
"I worry about you Dad. I think you need a service dog," Amarante answered.
"A service dog? I'm not that old yet. Come on let's make some coffee," Waltfeld answered. Amarante smiled gently wrapping her arms around his nub.
"Don't get upset when I tell you this," Amarante muttered weakly.
"Go on," her father muttered coldly.
"I'm going to see Kirkwood later today," Amarante muttered.
"Kirkwood? After how harshly he treated you on the Eternal," Waltfeld gasped.
"I know…I just want to say I'm sorry," Amarante sighed.
"Maremare, if you didn't develop amnesia, would you have cheated on Kirkwood with Nicol?" Waltfeld asked allowing his daughter to help him into a near-by chair.
"I'm…I'm not sure. I think I probably would have, but then again I already did," Amarante answered.
"Amarante, I don't know if anyone told you, but he dumped you while you were passed out in Banadiya. Do you even remember what happened during the time no one could see you?" Waltfeld asked.
"I…no…no to both," Amarante sighed.
"Damn I wish DaCosta was here. He saw you during that time," Waltfeld answered.
"Wait how? NO one was supposed to see me," Amarante asked curiously.
"Just a couple of white lies got him through. He told me that you asked about Aisha a lot, but I'll let DaCosta tell you later when the time is ready. Don't use the Kona. Make something interesting," Waltfeld answered.
"I miss her a lot."
"I miss her too."
"They always leave me."
"Amarante," Waltfeld scolded.
"I can't even remember my real mother, when Aisha came into my life…it was great. You two were the parents I had always dreamed of…but I guess women are meant to leave me."
"Mare, you are much more important than that! Your mother and Aisha loved you so much. They never wanted to leave you especially in the fashion that they did. Amarante, why do you feel this way?"
"Because they left me!"
"They weren't trying to leave you. You left me in a way," Waltfeld sighed.
"I guess. You'll never leave me right Daddy?"
"Of course I won't and you know what? You mother and Aisha are with you too, you carry their memories in your mind and their souls in your heart," Waltfeld answered standing up next to her.
"Daddy…I love you very much," Amarante answered.
"Unrelated topic but, I think you should start ballet again. I know this small little place that just opened," Waltfeld said placing a hand at the base of her neck.
"But I was going to go see Yzak and Dearka soon!" Amarante whined.
"Of course and I was going to take you there," Waltfeld chuckled.
"But…what about being a traitor?"
"About that…we were all pardoned by the new chairman," Waltfeld answered. "But let's not talk about that now. I want to show you everything that I loved in the PLANTs."
"Dad, how did you and Aisha fall in love?" Amarante asked curiously. Aisha had promised to tell her after the war was over but how could she if she was dead?
"I'll tell you when we visit the PLANTs, I think it would be more fitting there. Also we'll have to meet your grandparents," Waltfeld chuckled.
"Okay?" Amarante muttered cocking her head to the right.
"They've been waiting to meet you for some time now, since you'll be their only grandchild," Waltfeld answered.