Franz sat in a little armchair in his room, gazing out of the window at his family's vast garden. He liked the view, and the brightly coloured flowers were often a fantastic source of inspiration for his artwork. Of course, there were no flowers at the moment, as it was winter, but Franz could still see the gardener pottering about from where he sat.
Not that it really mattered what was in the garden right now. It wasn't like the child needed inspiration from flowers any more.
Nearly being abducted was a common theme in his drawings now. Everything that he could remember from that night was on paper somewhere. Gilbert holding a knife to his mother's throat, his mother's bloodied face riddled with guilt and shame, plus his own shame of not being able to do anything, Gilbert slicing off his hair; it was all there in pencil and paint now. It helped him deal with the trauma, Franz realised, and it was as if he was setting himself free from the memories. He'd never show the pictures to his parents though; they would just upset them and Franz didn't want his parents to be sad anymore. It was really scary when they cried. Maybe after he'd finished drawing everything, he could collect all his pictures and burn them, hopefully burning any bad feelings he'd have left.
Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair for the tenth time that day; it still didn't feel right. He frowned. Franz didn't like having short hair, and it just felt wrong on him. He'd been growing those silvery locks since he was little, washing them, brushing them, looking after them until his hair was his favourite part of him. Superficial, yes, but Franz had been proud of it. He felt it expressed who was truly was: different from the norm and a foe of the rules.
His father had taken him to the barber's the day after he was released to neaten it up. It was that bit shorter, coming down to his chin, but at least it didn't look like it had been hurriedly cut with a knife anymore. Franz groaned and put on the red beret his mother bought for him years ago. He'd found the thing recently, and the kid believed it kept his head looking artistic and interesting whilst he waited for his hair to grow again.
There came a knock at his door and Franz turned his head with a bored expression.
"Enter," he called.
Toris opened the door and stuck his head in, giving a small smile.
"Your father requests your presence in the family room," he informed the boy.
"Understood, Toris, thank you," Franz stood up and lifted Anna out of her cradle before making his way downstairs.
Elizabeta was already in the family room, sitting on a comfy, floral patterned sofa. Her face had healed from where she was hit, though there was still slight bruising on her delicate, pretty nose. Today her hair was pulled into a messy plait out of the way and she wore a pretty olive-coloured dress that matched her eyes. Elizabeta had abandoned her shoes, letting her feet feel the soft rug under her through her stockings.
"Oh, there you are dearie," she greeted, "it appears your father's keeping us waiting."
Franz nodded and sat down next to her.
Roderich didn't keep them waiting for long though. A few minutes later, he entered, clearing his throat and standing awkwardly in the doorway as his family turned to face him.
"It appears that I owe you both an explanation," he began, "and an apology. It is because of my foolish mistakes you both were hurt the way you were."
"Nonsense," scoffed Elizabeta, "Gilbert was my crazed ex fiancé, not yours."
"Nevertheless, I failed to protect you, which is something I vowed to do when I married you," Roderich hung his head in shame, whilst Elizabeta muttered something about not needing to be protected, "you are the two most important people in my life and I almost lost you that night."
"There was nothing you could have done, father," said Franz, "even mother could do nothing to stop him."
"I know, it is just…" Roderich sighed, "I love you both so much and I never tell either of you enough. Recent events have made me realise this."
Franz stood up and gave his father a hug, which was returned.
"We love you too, Roddy," added Elizabeta, "but it really would be nice to know where you've been sneaking off to."
"Yes, I owe you an explanation," agreed Roderich, taking a group of rolled up sheets from the pocket of his jacket, "this was meant to be a Christmas present for you, but I am perfectly sure neither of you object to it being a little early."
"Not at all," replied Elizabeta.
"Ooh, is that our present?" asked Franz, pointing at the sheets, then frowning, "what is it?"
Roderich chuckled, "sit down and I'll show you." Franz obeyed and Roderich strode over to the grand piano in the corner. Sitting down on the stool, he placed the sheets in front of him and Franz could see there were musical notes on it. So he'd written them a song…
The famed, framed composer began playing; the piece started slow but soon picked up, taking on a haunting rhythm that drew everyone in, captivating them. There was something else there, love. Franz could feel his father playing his love of his wife and son, music expressing what he couldn't ever bring himself to say out loud. Was it his imagination, or were there silent tears forming in his father's eyes when he glanced over to see their reactions before returning his gaze to the music sheets?
When he'd finished, Roderich stood up and gave an awkward bow.
"I assume you get the idea," he added, looking away.
"That was beautiful dear," gasped Elizabeta, "it's just… thank you."
Roderich smiled, blushing slightly, "that was why I kept leaving, so you wouldn't hear it. I did my composition at my friend Vash's house."
"It was really pretty Vatti," mumbled Franz, scooting closer to Elizabeta to make room for Roderich on the sofa. Nestled between his parents, Franz tried to remember the last time the three of them had been so close, but failed. Instead, he decided to savour this moment, and hope many more would follow.
"Sir?" asked the butler, entering the room. Although Toris and Feliks were regarded as close friends now and their loyalty admired, the other servants of the house had been welcomed back after Roderich was found innocent.
"Yes?" asked Roderich.
"A letter has arrived for you, sir," answered the butler, handing him an envelope.
"Thank you, that'll be all," Roderich took a letter-opener out of his pocket and cut open the envelope, pulling a letter out. He read it once and showed it to Elizabeta and Franz, and the latter gasped with excitement.
"Can we go please?" he pleaded.
"I don't see why not."
…
"Heracles," snapped Sadik, stabbing the table with a fork as he glared at the other man, "how many times have I told you that if you feed strays? They'll just keep coming back for more!"
"But they're hungry," argued Heracles calmly, throwing pieces of fish to the small crowd of cats gathered outside their back door. Kiku kneeled beside him, setting down a saucer of milk.
"Well I'm hungry too," whined Sadik, "how come you two never feed me?"
"You pay our wages! You have more money than us!"
"I've always shared," argued Sadik, "cheeky little shits," he turned to the man sitting in front of him, quietly getting on with his dinner, "you agree, right Muhammad?"
Muhammad looked up and nodded; "the smell of the cats makes my dog nervous and jumpy."
"See! We have our own pets to look after!"
"I understand," said Kiku, "but charity is important too."
Sadik groaned, rolling his eyes.
"Hey, there's a letter under this tabby," commented Heracles, reaching down to pick it up, "it's addressed to us."
"Ooh, let me see," said Sadik.
The four men opened the letter together, smiling when they saw what was inside.
…
"So what do you think?" asked Eva, looking around at her three flatmates, who were lounging on a pair of two-seater brown sofas, "sounds fun, huh?"
"I'll pass," replied Jan, folding his arms.
"Oh no you don't," growled Carlos, "if I'm going then you are too. Besides, who wants to be alone on Christmas Eve?"
"Me, that's my perfect Christmas Eve."
"Grumpy prick."
"Hey quiet now," cried Antonio, reading the letter once more, "we're all going! Hey, I think I know these guys who sent it, but I can't place them. Still, I wonder if Lovino got an invite…"
…
"I wonder if Toni got an invite," murmured Lovino slouched in his arm chair as his sister read the letter out loud.
"I think it's a good idea," commented Ludwig, who was perched on the arm of the chair Florenza was lying in, a hand placed protectively over her belly. Lovino still wasn't used to the idea of him and Sal being future uncles, and it had taken every once of self control he possessed to not strangle the blue bastard when he first found out. But Ludwig made Florenza happy and, to some extent, Lovino was grateful for his presence.
"This will be the best Christmas ever!" cried Salvatorio, jumping up and down excitedly.
…
William couldn't stop the tears streaming down his face as he read. This was something him and Jemima were supposed to do together. Nevertheless, she would want him and the children to go, so he put on a brave face to tell them the news.
"So should we bake something to bring with us?" asked Oscar through the cheering coming from the younger children.
"It's only fair," agreed William.
…
"I remember Mr Edelstein getting a similar note today," commented Toris, looking over Eduard's shoulder, "lots of people must have got them. I think Feliks did too."
"Well, I'm in," said Eduard, "what about you two?"
"I want to go," said Raivis, "it sounds so much fun."
Toris nodded in agreement, "well I guess that settles things. We won't be spending Christmas alone."
…
"It's a blessing," confirmed Michelle, "I'm sure it's a gift from dear Francis."
"Maybe," agreed Marianne, "either way, it's a piece of wonderful Christmas joy."
…..
One more chapter to go after this, then the story's done. Just, wow, I've never got this far in any piece of writing…
So, I've started a Spamano one, if anyone's interested. Also, now you all know what Roderich was up to!