A/N: I don't own Lost.
Musings
The first time Eloise saw him, she had no idea what to think. She had come across him in the jungle, along with two other people. The man who claimed to be their leader appeared to be an unlikely choice, as he seemed too mild-mannered to be in a position of leadership. While leading him and the others to her camp, she observed them. The man kept a close eye on the red headed woman, but the Asian man moved towards him and spoke too quietly for any of them to overhear. Watching their interactions, she came to the conclusion that the first man was the leader, as they both deferred to him. The red headed woman appeared confident, but occasionally she caught her moving instinctively closer to the man.
When she spoke to Richard, she didn't expect the man to attempt to dominate the conversation, and even Richard was taken aback. The trio was led to a tent, but she stayed close to Richard, choosing to avoid them. Even though she never showed it, she was uncomfortable around people she couldn't read, and that man was obviously one to watch out for. She didn't believe they were military, but she had no idea who else they could be.
When Richard went to question the group, she went along as well, but chose to stay back, observing instead of participating. As soon as she walked in, she knew they were discussing something. They all looked nervous, and somewhat guilty. None of them were looking any of her people in the eye.
Richard began questioning, and the man immediately turned the conversation around and asked about the bomb that was on her Island. He didn't show any reaction to Richard's words, but she was itching to know what was under the surface and what happened to the meek, mild-mannered man she immediately assumed he was. It wasn't until he admitted his feelings for the woman that she understood. The red headed woman was the source of his strength, his confidence. She had a feeling that if she took the woman out of the equation, he wouldn't be confident enough to be their leader.
She showed him the bomb, but he just spouted some ridiculous nonsense about burying it. Then, he disappeared. She eventually pushed the man out of her mind, assuming that she would never see him again. For twenty years, she was proved right.
She concealed her surprise rather well, she assumed, when she exited her tent and found the man standing there with a gun pointed at Richard. She didn't hesitate, shooting him almost as soon as she laid eyes on him. It wasn't until after she realized he was dying that she asked the important question, who he was. When he said he was her son, she almost dropped her gun in surprise.
She found his name from a journal that he was carrying with him. She learned his last name from his companions. Her son's name was Daniel Faraday, and she wanted to do whatever she could to make sure she wouldn't kill him.
As she watched her son grow, she realized that she couldn't change what happened to him. She'll never forget the day that she told him that he couldn't play the piano anymore. That was the day she reconciled herself to both of their fates. From then on, she distanced herself from him. She only encouraged him or praised him when he was successful in math or physics, and even then she made sure that it was rare. He was a boy who strived for her approval, and she knew the best way to keep him on course was to make him keep trying.
She learned about his life through his journal instead of watching him experience it. Still, she knew the man he would be. She knew that he would become an intelligent man, someone who would rise to the challenges he'd meet. She knew he'd experience happiness and love, but she also knew he'd experience loss.
She almost broke down the day she encouraged him to join the team his father was putting him together, knowing she sent him to his death. She realized, once it was too late, what hurt more than anything. It wasn't the knowledge that killed her son, although that was terrible. It was the knowledge that she never got to know him, and that she never showed him how much she truly cared about him. Despite her regrets, she knew she would never show that inner torment to anyone. She had conditioned herself to be cold at all times, and she knew that she would be unable to change now, even if she tried.