Disclaimer: None of these places, names, characters, etc are mine. Though I wish Kartik was.
May 6, 1899
Carrying my bag in one hand and grasping Henry's with the other, I march up the steps to Spence Academy for Young Ladies. The old beast looks just the same as she did when I left, if not better. She is an oddly welcome sight. The ladies here do not know I am coming, for I have traveled straight here as a surprise to them. My grandmother believes my train arrives in London in a week's time, but I have duties here first. I lift the knocker, my gaze scanning the rows of windows until I find my own. In the ivy beneath my old window there is a spot of color and the breath is nearly knocked out of me. Could it be? It's impossible. My heart sinks at the cruel reminder tied in the leaves.
"Mama, aren't you going to knock?" A small tug on my arm breaks me out of my reverie. I smile down at Henry.
"Would you like to?" He nods emphatically and I swing him up into my arms, letting him lean forward to bang the knocker against the door thrice. He wiggles and I let him down, where he bounces with excitement, his dark curls bouncing with him. I am so enraptured by my boy that I barely hear the door open and the gasp that comes from the old housekeeper.
"Why, by awl the saints, if it ain't Miss Doyle!" Brigid cries, throwing her arms about me. "Ya come so unexpected! Are ya back from university?"
"Dear old Brigid, that I am!" I laugh, embracing her. Brigid stops suddenly, noticing Henry at my side.
"And who might this young lad be?" Henry darts behind my skirt, peeking out at the robust housekeeper shyly.
"This would be my son, Henry." Brigid's face thaws in shock as she registers my reply.
"Oh my," she breathes. "Isn't he a purty thing?" Henry takes my hand, stepping slowly out from behind me. Brigid shakes her head, ushering us inside. "Where are my manners? The missus will be more than glad to see ya, surely! I'll see you into the parlor."
The parlor has not changed a bit. Henry climbs up onto a chair, removing from his pocket the top I bought him before we left America and spinning it on the end table beside him. As I sit and gaze around, I remember Tom sitting in the chair opposite mine the last time he visited me. I can practically hear McCleethy's commanding voice as she fought tooth and nail for the magic the day of the battle. It is melancholy, but welcoming. Now I am here for a different purpose, but Spence is still home. Now that I have graduated university, the time has come for the realms creatures and I to come together to create a constitution for the realms, and I am making good on my promise to return.
I hear a faint whistling sound down the hall, followed by footsteps around the corner. That could not possibly be Nightwing whistling such a jolly tune, could it? If it is, I shall promptly fall out of my chair and onto the floor. The door opens quickly, causing me to jump in my seat.
"Lillian?" That voice is familiar. It raises gooseflesh on my skin. It can't be. I stand, facing the open door, where I am greeted by a shock to match all others. My knees grow weak and I put a hand out onto the table, catching myself as my head spins wildly.
Kartik stands just inside the open door, his eyes wide, his jaw dropped in awe.
The silence in the room is deafening. The only sounds I can hear are the ticking of the clock on the mantel and the beating of my own heart. Is he really here? So many words bubble to my tongue but I am speechless, stunned. Somewhere in my chest, a painful throb erupts. He gapes at me, unblinking.
"Hello again," he finally says. His voice hits me with the force of a freight train. It truly is him. This is no vision. My eyes well with tears.
I myself can barely decipher my broken whisper of a reply, "Hello." We stand in silence again. My chest shudders with the effort of breathing. He stands straight, breaking our gaze and staring at the floor, shifting uncomfortably as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.
"It is a…surprise to see you here," he says.
"I might say the same," is all I can say. He winces. I want to ask him how he is here, why I did not hear from him, why he did not come to me, but all I can do is battle with myself internally. He is here, but what does that mean?
A high-pitched cough from behind me snaps Kartik out of his slumped position. His neck cranes to see behind me and I fear he will faint when his eyes find the boy smiling at the top spinning silently on the end table.
"And…who is this?" he breathes, his eyes not leaving the child.
"This is Henry," I whisper. "My son." Kartik's eyes are nearly popping out of his skull. He leans against the wall, steadying himself.
"How…how old is he?"
"Three." He breathes slowly, in, out. "You cannot deny that he is yours."
"I cannot." A silent tear slips down my cheek. My face is hot and my hands shake at my sides. I want to speak, to say his name, anything, but I cannot say it. "I-"
"Ah, Miss Doyle!" Mrs. Nightwing brushes around the corner, sweeping me into an embrace the likes of which I was not aware she was capable.
"Mrs. Nightwing, how wonderful to see you," I smile, still shaken.
"Oh please, I have told you, call me Lillian." She holds me at arms length. "My have you grown! It is so good to see you." Henry drops the top onto the table again, creating a dull thud that attracts Nightwing's hawk-like senses. "I was not aware you had a charge, Miss-"
"Oh no," I stop her. "Darling, will you come here a moment?" I beckon to Henry, but a glance behind Nightwing's shoulder shows that Kartik is still there, frozen in shock. Henry obediently joins me at my side. "Mrs. N-Lillian, this is my son, Henry Doyle. Henry, this is Spence's headmistress, Mrs. Nightwing."
"How do you do?" Henry nods politely. That's my boy.
Shock flickers across her face, followed by confusion, then, just as fast as they appeared, they are replaced by the familiar stony headmistress expression I know so well. "My many congratulations, Miss Doyle," she says. "The gift of a child is a precious one, indeed."
I meet Kartik's eye. "It certainly is." Puzzled, Nightwing turns to see where I am looking. She blanches when she sees Kartik there.
"Ah, I see you two have already been…reacquainted."
"We have indeed. And there is much to be discussed. I hate to leave your company so soon, but might you entertain Henry for a moment while I have a discussion with our friend here? Henry loves books, a trip to the library would please him well enough." Nightwing glances at me apprehensively. "Please, Lillian," I beg quietly. After a moment of silent contemplation, Mrs. Nightwing gives a curt nod.
"Henry, why don't I show you the library? I'm sure we can find a book to keep you company." Henry looks up at me.
"It's all right, dearest. If you are safe with anyone, it is Mrs. Nightwing. I shall come find you in just a moment, you go on." Mrs. Nightwing guides him out the door and they disappear down the hall. Kartik and I are left alone. He steps forward.
"Gemma, I can-" I put up a hand, silencing him.
"How?" I ask. I shall begin with simple questions. Kartik sighs and gestures for me to sit, which I gladly do. He paces back and forth in front of the fireplace.
"Not long after I entered the tree, I began storing magic, taking some from the ground and filling the tree with it, replacing its need for me. Once the tree was once again filled, this time with natural magic, I was ejected from it. My sacrifice was no longer needed, so I returned here."
"Why did you not come to me?" My voice is hard. My hands tremble in fists in my lap.
"Gemma, I-"
I stand abruptly. "It has been four years. I have mourned you for four years, raised a child on low wages on my own, all while attending university and working a job in a foreign country. I needed you." Kartik is calm.
"I know that now, and I am sorry." He takes a step toward me and I sit back in my seat, turning my head away from him to watch the dust motes float in the light from the window.
"Then why have I not heard from you?" Tears once again bubble up, obstructing my vision. Kartik sighs, running his fingers through his hair.
"It is improper to arrive here unannounced. You should have written." Though I must admit this stings a little, I am tempted to scoff at this. Someone has been spending too much time with old Nightwing.
"Would you have been here if I had?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
"Of course I would, Gemma, but Henry?" He begins pacing again, and I'm afraid he may wear a groove in the floorboards.
"He is your son, Kartik. Our son. He needs a father and I thought he might never have one, but now that you're back-"
Kartik stops, blanches. "I was prepared to leave here with you when you returned, but to return and ask me to be a father? That is a lot to ask, Gemma, even for you." I stand, coming face to face with him.
"That child," I say slowly, gesturing to the door behind me, "is your flesh and blood. I have spent the last three years raising him alone. Know, Kartik, that if I leave here with anyone, it will be him." Kartik's jaw tightens. With a huff, Kartik breaks away and heads for the door.
"I need to be alone," he says.
"Where are you going? We are most certainly not done here, Kartik!"
He stops at the door, appraises me with a look of frazzled exhaustion. "This is a lot to consider. I will find you when I am ready." And with that, he is gone again. It is all I can do to stomp my foot like a child, fall into the nearest chair, and cry.
Thanks to Randomcat100 for the review! Sorry I didn't update for a while, college is a time. I already have SO much of this story written and ready to post, and the more you guys review the more I'll post!
Kartik rocks my socks,
Lady Hope
