Short piece in which Legend remembers his little girl on the tenth anniversary of her death, honoring her memory at a place she loved.
Just some brief notes for those not familiar with my Legend stories and/or RP: Zed is my headcanon-moniker for Legend, and Laurelei is sort of an OC - Zed's daughter.
He chose the far end of the pier, away from the busy-ness of Costa's port and helipad, to set up a beach blanket and sand chair. Out toward the jetty, where she liked to come at low tide, early in the morning, looking for seashells and other forms of ocean life, shrieking if any of the 'ucky' seaweed wrapped itself around her feet when she waded out into the surf.
She loved the beach just as much as her father did, and it made Zed happier than he'd ever thought possible in this life, taking these early morning walks with his daughter. They'd walk hand in hand, a pail and shovel dangling in her free hand\ ready to collect her seashells, or dig a hole just to watch the water fill it in. It amazed her, every time that happened. There were times when the tide did not bring any seashells onto the shore; once when Laurelei expressed dismay at not finding any 'treasure', Zed sneakily and hastily purchased a box of seashells from a boardwalk vendor, surreptitiously scattering them along the sand while Laurelei was busy and distracted, flying her kite further down the shore, but within his eyesight.
"Come on...I think we'll find some shells over this way, Laur," he'd told his daughter, struggling to keep a straight face as she ran up and down the beach, shrieking with delight as she threw pieces of coral and conch shells into her little bucket.
"Daddy! Daddy, I found oh-so-many shells! Look!" And Zed had laughed, not feeling terribly guilty over the subterfuge; it had made her happy, even if he'd planted the things himself. Anything, anything to make her happy, and he would do it.
Zed smiled at the memory, and looked down at the little plastic bucket in his hand. Fragrant white-and-purple plumeria filled it to the rim, the blossoms gathered up by locals, and sold in handfuls at the many beach stands dotting the Costan shoreline. The flowers represented the sweetness of life with their fragrance; their delicacy and tendency to wilt soon after being picked signified the swiftness of time, and of life and death.
Today had been the day, ten years ago; it was a beautiful summer day just like today was, though they had not been in Costa on that day so many years ago. Things would have turned out much differently had they not been in the city, at the reactor.
She would still be alive, and she would be here on the beach in Costa - perhaps searching for seashells and building sandcastles with her father. By now, Zed reflected soberly, she would have been a young woman. Perhaps she wouldn't need her daddy as much as she did back then. She would be living her own life now, becoming her own person. Something Zed would never get to see happen, he'd been robbed of that chance to watch his little girl grow up so many years ago.
Ten years gone. Ten years in which he'd lost it all; his daughter, his sanity, and at times, even his will to live. But life was like a wheel, it kept on turning even when Zed felt he was stuck in the mud, unable to move forward, or back. Then he found new purpose with the Turks - Veld had thrown him a life preserver when he'd offered him a second chance. And a third - Tseng might have been right in his belief that Legend got too lenient of a sentence with his house arrest in Costa. But Veld knew how it was, he had a daughter himself.
"You know your transgressions, Legend," Veld had told him calmly. "And you know I must do something, but I feel you have already served your sentence. There is no greater punishment...than to lose a child."
He'd been grateful for Veld's mercy, not expecting it, but grateful all the same.
Zed carried the small pail full of fragrant plumeria blooms out toward the surf, wading in until the water was up to his knees. He inhaled their sweet scent before taking a handful, casting them upon the waves.
"Brought you some flowers, Laurelei," he whispered into the warm western wind, watching the flowers floating out to sea. "I love you."