Alejandro's Private Ponderings
Alejandro sat in his private study, at his desk, secluding himself from the rest of the household. He was worried. Not worried about Diego. The boy was recovering well, and was well behaved enough to drink his medicine and lie in bed. He wasn't too worried about Felipe, but it was concerning to think the boy was struggling with his dreams and talents. The boy had natural talents in caring for people. Five years helping Zorro must have trained him for something. No, he wasn't really worried about either of them. The boys would be fine.
He was worried about the way his body was sore in all sorts of places. The ride out to the bandit camp had drained all of Diego's strength, and delayed his recovery, but it had also affected Alejandro more than he would care to admit to anyone.
He had always been a superb horseman. He prided himself on his skills, although he knew it wasn't modest to acknowledge them. Dulcinea was a favourite horse, mainly because she wouldn't let just anyone ride her. They had reached an understanding, and they loved one another dearly. She definitely had her own personality.
He had always been a master swordsman, even in the top 5 at university, alongside Kendall. Growing up together they had gotten into all sorts of mischief. Diego with his Zorro persona was a little extreme, but they had also had their moments before they had settled down. Kendall had never settled down.
Now he was stiff from the ride, sore from the fight. He was tired, and worn out. It had been a hard fortnight, definitely. He would care for Diego first and foremost, but now he looked less pale and more spritely. Alejandro wanted to be there to see at least one grandchild, hopefully a grandson. To hold Diego's son in his arms would be a great blessing, he realised. A granddaughter would be alright too. To hold another tiny hand and lead a toddler out to play, to place another de la Vega on their first pony, to hear a child's laughter in the hacienda would fill his old heart with joy. But perhaps he was being too complacent.
He wondered about what the doctor had said. He wondered if he should get Hernandez to check him. What could be done? Nothing, nothing at all. Maybe he just needed to accept that his life was coming gradually to a close. He was old now, after all. A lot of men his age had already died. He had lost friends in war, and now he was starting to lose friends in peacetime. Although under the Alcalde it wasn't always exactly peaceful. The man was slowly coming around, though.
At least the Alcalde was trying harder. Zorro was less active. He'd had to be, Diego was not fit to even leave his bed. There was no way to rely on the masked hero, and the Alcalde was starting to realise that, obviously. He had stepped up patrols and the defence on the day of the wedding was excellent, eventually. Showing a great deal of courage, the man had turned the defeat into a rescue that had the whole town talking. Everyone in the basement certainly agreed that the Alcalde had come in handy when he let them all out when the coast was clear.
He had tracked the men to the bandit camp. Perhaps he had just followed Zorro, his son had not been too careful about being followed. He had wanted to catch Zorro perhaps, but that seemed more an afterthought these days.
He hoped the dangers would lessen. Every time Zorro went out there was a chance that he would not come back. He hated that he had found out that his son was Zorro. It was much better to believe his son a coward, than believe he could be dead somewhere. He would have to discuss these ideas with Diego, when he could stay awake for longer than five minutes.
Diego was a great man. He had been proud before, when Diego had been just the newspaper man gathering stories, righting wrongs in the paper of his, although he never said as much. He'd encouraged of course, seeing the glimmer of passion in Diego's eyes at last. He was prouder these days, now that he realised how much Diego took after him. His skills with the sword, his skills with horses were pure de la Vega.
However, Zorro's persona annoyed and irritated him, much more than Diego normally did. They had their differences of opinion, of course, (what family didn't?) but Zorro… He was haughty and proud in ways that Diego was definitely not. The way that man flirted with Victoria, showed off before the entire pueblo, endangered his life on a whim… He had enjoyed it when he wasn't aware that the mocking eyes inside the mask belonged to his own son. Now it annoyed him. Alejandro sighed. They were not two men, they were one man. How would he ever get his head around that idea?
He felt an ache deep in his chest, and he rubbed it thoughtfully. Heartburn. The tamales were a little too hot lately, he thought. Something inside him wanted to worry some more, but Alejandro wanted to do something. His thoughts were making him ill, he needed to act, to do something.
Making his way to Diego's room, he felt tired. He would sit with his son and read to him. Even if he was asleep, he could do that. Robin Hood would be nice to get into again.