prompt: daddy Tom & grandmama Branson meeting little Sybil for the first time

Seagulls

Pa, look. Birds.

That's seagulls, Sybil.

Seagles?

Seagulls.

His daughter's arms were wrapped around his neck, strands of her dark hair floating in the harsh wind of the sea – he could never quite manage the braid as well as Edith or Mary. The light blue of her dress was much softer than the cold steel of the sky, yet the slight glimpse of sunlight that shone through the clouds warmed what little was exposed of their skin.

Are you looking forward to meeting your Granny?

Sybil nodded, that excited, uncontrolled bouncing of her head, and she wriggled happily in his arms, a wide, toothed grin on her perfectly innocent face.

He looked at the horizon, no land in sight yet, but the prospect of finally returning home causing a shiver inside of him he has not felt in a long time.

.

He could not remember the last time he had seen his mother cry, but when she held him tightly in her arms for the first time in three years, her tears were soaking through the fabric of his shirt.

As he took Sybil's small hand and introduced her to the grandmother she had never met before, he could see his mother's effort to hide her tears. Yet, the way she looked at the bubbly young girl, he could sense she felt the same searing pain he did every time he looked at his daughter, a pain no love in the world could erase. She looked so much like her mother, so much that Tom feared the day she would grow up, the resemblance growing each day.

Would he be able to stand the pain when she stood in front of him, as if reborn from the ashes of his heart?

Granny, we saw seagles, can you believe it?

Did you really, my darling?

They were flying!

Probably, Tom thought, he would find a way.


A/N: Feel free to suggest a prompt, if there is anything you would like me to write.