A/N: This started off as a chapter in "Rose and Thorn," but quickly grew into its own story. Then two (!) of my characters went rogue on me, resulting in the darker tone starting in Chapter 5. And yes, there is a bit of smut, hence the M rating. I've rather enjoyed going down this particular rabbit hole, and I hope you enjoy it too.
Lewis Carroll and Tim Burton own many of these characters; Casiphia, her parents, Oran, and Rosalba are my own. ~br
Chapter 1: Small Adventures
Children wish fathers looked but with their eyes; fathers that children with their judgment looked; and either may be wrong.
~William Shakespeare
"I clearly recall you saying you wanted to meet my father," Casiphia said to Ilosovic as she handed a couple of gowns to the lady's maid who was helping her pack. "It's better to meet them than to wait for them to come to us—otherwise it might seem like I'm trying to keep you a secret.
"And it certainly seems like a good enough time for it, so you can get some time away before having to deal further with Iracebeth."
"True enough," he had to agree. "But a carriage? We can't ride?"
"It's just a gig, it hardly qualifies as a carriage, and I'm certainly not asking Quill to carry a steamer trunk. And yes, I do need a steamer trunk," she said, looking at the bag Stayne was planning to take with him.
"I know soldiers learn to travel light, but I couldn't get one gown into that bag," Casiphia said. "And yes, I preemptively mocking you before you poke fun at me. Dear, no one is going to make you wash your shirt in the brook every night. Go find a larger bag and put some more clothes in it."
Stayne sighed overdramatically and did as she requested. "Are we ready?"
"I believe so," Casiphia said, looking around her room a final time. "I'm certain I'm forgetting something, I always do, but I can't think of it what it might be. If you'll ring for someone to come for the luggage—we'll be on our way."
It wasn't a lengthy trip, although the necessity of taking the gig on a paved road did make it a longer journey it would have been had they ridden. A pretty little white mare by the name of Snowbell pulled the gig, with Casiphia at the reins because, as she pointed out, she was the one who knew where they were going.
They passed through the mushroom forest soon after traversing some of Marmoreal's woodlands, Stayne having one or two ill-tempered exchanges with some of the more irascible talking flowers along the path.
The house wasn't visible till they were almost upon it, when it appeared suddenly in a grove of trees, covered in flowering vines. Not palatial, it was nonetheless a good size for a cottage, and was clearly a place lived in by people who cared about it and enjoyed tending it and the gardens around it.
"I've not actually been to this house before," Casiphia said. "They retired only a few years ago, and I've seen them during their regular visits to the castle. So this is new to me as well."
As their carriage pulled up to the house, a man with a mane of white hair and a long white walrus moustache, dressed in an old blue riding coat, came out to meet it.
"Now I've seen everything," he called out to them. "The prodigal daughter, a man of sinister repute, and a horse who isn't Quill."
"As if Quill would deign to pull a carriage," Casiphia called down. She whispered to Ilosovic, "Ah, you've been acknowledged. That may in fact count as a compliment."
Casiphia pulled the carriage to a stop and slid down to the ground. "Hello, Papa," she said, giving the man a hug. She took Ilosovic's hand as he joined her, and said, "I trust you are familiar with the name of Ilosovic Stayne."
Ilosovic made a small but polite bow, only a little awkwardly, and Casiphia's father did the same. "I'm Harald Rhoswen," he said. "Come inside and meet my wife."
"Good thus far," Casiphia whispered, taking Stayne's arm and leading him under an arch of wisteria blooms and inside the cottage.