FOUR
Maria scolds her for taking so long and letting herself get soaked—"It'll be your own fault if you catch a cold, you know!"—while toweling her hair dry. It is rather unlike Maria to be so attentive over four minutes' worth of rain.
"I am sorry," she offers, catching Maria's gaze.
Putting the towel aside, Maria sighs, "Well, where else am I supposed to channel my parental instincts? I don't want to scare her away, or overwhelm her, or make her feel bad about her father, or make her think we have expectations, or—" she waves her hands around to illustrate her point in lieu of using words.
She pulls Maria down to sit beside her, looping an arm around Maria's waist as Maria nestles into her neck.
They remain so for a minute, simply breathing in tandem, before she points out, "Despite the lack of tactile contact, you have been acting with Elfnein's comfort and best interests in mind. I am sure she sees that—there is no need to worry such over her impression of you, because she knows, my dear. The rest is up to time…."
"And time bows to no master," Maria finishes for her, laughing and shaking her head, which tickles Tsubasa's skin.
"With that said, I think you should check on her; it has been a few minutes," she says.
Maria laughs again, teasing, "I see someone's settling into the role of 'distant father' already," but then she asks, serious again, "why don't you check on her? I'll get dinner ready while you both get reacquainted with each other."
Her shoulders droop. She admits, "I am afraid of hurting her. Of making an irrevocable mistake."
But it is he duty. Her responsibility. An honor.
"That's my brave Tsubasa," Maria encourages, squeezing her hands. "Now, go and be a good parent." Maria leaves, then, taking the used towel with her on the way, and then she is alone.
She does not tarry. Within seconds she is in front of Elfnein's room on the opposite side of the hall of chambers, at the Blue chamber. Her hand knocks softly.
"Um…come in," Elfnein's faint voice grants her permission.
She bows as she slides the door open, murmuring, "Elfnein. I hope you are at ease with your accommodations." Immediately, she wants to rewind time to rescind her graceless words, but instead she forges onward, "I know the rooms felt… too large and empty when I was a child."
She is as surprised as Elfnein is at her statement, not having expected her nostalgia to intrude. It is, however, the truth—and she wants Elfnein to be happy, free from the burdens of the adult world.
Elfnein ventures to break the uncertain silence; briefly patting the floor beside her, Elfnein says, "I was just looking through the books." She nods her head slightly at the low bookshelf in front of her.
"Ah," she takes the offered seat at a respectable distance, "I hope you like them, but I am sorry if my extrapolation of your taste is erroneous." Curse her traitorous anxiety—her greatest flaw!
But.
"Ex—extra… pollution? Um, I don't… I don't know that word." Elfnein looks up at her, timid yet inquisitive and expectant.
Quirking her lips, she reaches for a leather-bound book. "I also bought a dictionary—several, in fact, for the language can be a monster at times." She finds the word and points it out to Elfnein. "Extrapolate."
After reading the definition and sounding out the word under her breath, Elfnein tells her, "It's okay if your… your ex-tra-po-la-tion isn't right. I like reading pretty much anything I can get my hands on." Blushing, she appends, "T-thank you."
"You are welcome," she murmurs in return. Mayhap it is not so bad.
Elfnein is a far better child—and she herself is, at least, a moderately better parent (and she has Maria to fall back on).
She can do this.
a/n: Please review!