Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money off of this.

Spoilers: Full series spoilers.

All That We're Containing

The sprawling city of Albion rose up around the palace, spires and towers stretching up to the sky like great fingers towards the stars. Lights flickered in the darkness - pinpoints of illumination that detailed each structure and painted a glittering cityscape against the night. Around the palace the only life was the royal guard, keeping an ever-present vigil over the center of Albion's power.

Abel Nightroad clung to the frame of a window, his eyes on the city. The place held too many memories. In his mind's eyes he could see the red blossoms of canon fire over the city, the broken towers, the pillars of smoke. The taste of ozone lingered at the back of his throat, another memory of the battle that had been waged above the city.

But that was all gone now. Albion lay peaceful and quiet beneath the night sky, her citizens sleeping safely in the warm embrace of peace. How long it would last, Abel didn't know. Did it really matter?

He hadn't meant to come to this place. He'd left it long before, following the path of his sins without a word of farewell. The battled he had waged in Albion had only been the beginning, and even now he was no closer to the end.

But he was tired. The days dragged like years, each one bringing nothing but a hollow regret. It had all gone wrong. Abel looked back along the line of his life and saw little other than mistakes. How many chances had he been offered to make things right? How many times had he failed? Here, in his private moments, there was no trace of the silly and lackadaisical priest he had presented to the world for so long. Here he was as he had been in the beginning.

Movement from within the palace caught his attention. Abel turned, shrouded in shadows, to look within. Voices filtered out, discussing matters of state. Through the window, Abel could make out forms. He ignored the retainers and the hand maidens and let his eyes focus on the young woman in the white gown. Even as a queen, she'd kept her hair short. Even as a queen, her eyes held that same hopeful innocence that Abel had lost himself to years ago.

Queen Esther, the Star of Hope. And who better to lead an age that strived to peace between vampires and humans? Abel hadn't forgotten how his companion in travels had looked upon her, embraced her as a lover and whispered into her ear. She had come a long way from the vengeful, frightened girl she had been in that small church.

The retainers and hand maidens filtered out. Abel watched them go, leaving the queen to herself in the royal bedchamber. Abel hesitated, watching as she moved about the room. She appeared to be pacing, her gown trailing on the floor behind her.

It was rude to simply crouch in the window and spy. Abel wet his lips and slipped inside, catching his foot on the window sill and sprawling into the room with a crash and a curse. It would have been rude not to announce his presence, after all.

Esther gasped, a frightened noise. Abel looked up from the floor and winced out a smile, one hand raised in greeting.

"Father… Father?"

The disbelief and mingled relief in Esther's voice went straight to Abel's core. She shouldn't sound so pleased to see him. She knew what he was.

"Oh my!" Abel pushed himself up and adjusted his glasses. "This is much nicer than Rome!" he announced, ignoring pleasantries or awkward greetings.

"Father Nightroad!"

Abel turned in time to see her coming towards him, her slippers silent on the carpet. She didn't look a queen then, only a young woman filled with relief. She ran to him, eyes bright, and threw her arms around him without shame. She clung to him, face buried in his chest, and Abel knew he was a fool to think of her as a child.

"I'm… proud of you, Esther."

They were the only words he could give her. A part of him wanted to give her more, to give her what she so painfully asked for with her embrace and the damp tears against his shirt. But he couldn't. He didn't even lift his arms, afraid to give her false hope. He let her hold him, silently, shaking against him.

"You… you idiot!" She pulled away, wiping at her eyes. "Why didn't you send word? Why didn't you tell anyone? I've been so worried…."

"I am sorry." Abel shrugged, sheepish, and the moment was broken. "But I realized how rude it was not to pay my respects to the new Queen!"

Esther shook her head, eyes still misty. She straightened her collar and her skirt, as though attempting to present herself as the royalty that she was.

"You could have come in like a normal person," she pointed out.

"I'm not staying," Abel told her. He couldn't. He hadn't finished what he set out to do. He shouldn't even have taken this time away, allowed Cain to get ahead of him, give the other a chance to slip away…. But he had wanted to see Esther.

"It's not done, is it?" She looked away then, as though afraid to bring the subject up. Abel only shook his head.

"When… when it is done, will you come back?"

"I don't know." Abel offered a small, honest smile.

"Thank you." Esther offered a smile of her own, and Abel felt something inside of him ache. She still held that bright, burning optimism that Abel had found so heartbreaking and touching all those centuries ago. Not only in her, but in another.

"Well, I shouldn't take up any more of your time." Abel bowed, a formal gesture meant to distance himself from her. "Good luck, Queen Esther. I know you'll do your best."

He turned to go, not waiting for her reply, but she grabbed his wrist and called to him.

"Father! Abel…"

Abel turned, his features carefully composed into a bright and cheerful smile. "The Count of Memphis sends his regards," he said, and he recoiled inside even as Esther drew back from him with a confused flush. He pulled his hand away from hers gently, cursing himself and fate and a god he didn't know if he truly believed in. If things were different, had been different…

But they weren't and hadn't been. Abel lowered his eyes and tried his best to ignore the oppressive silence that had entered the room.

"If I can come back…" he said, awkward, not wanting to make a promise he couldn't keep.

"Go or stay, but don't drag it out. Please."

The firm tone of Esther's voice surprised him. But she was a queen now, a full grown woman and not the child he had brought to Rome. She had always been strong, but now it was a tempered strength. He smiled.

"Perhaps we'll meet again, Queen Esther. Take care." Abel gave her a small, friendly wave and slipped out the window, leaving them both with hardly more than they'd started with.

But perhaps… perhaps she was proof that it hadn't all been mistakes.