When I was young my heart and head were light,
And I was gay and feckless as a colt
Out in the fields, with morning in the may,
Wind on the grass, wings in the orchard bloom.
O thrilling sweet, my joy, when life was free
And all the paths led on from hawthorn-time
Across the caroling meadows into June.
But now my heart is heavy-laden. I sit
Burning my dreams away beside the fire:
For death has made me wise and bitter and strong;
And I am rich in all that I have lost.
O star shine on the fields of long-ago,
Bring me the darkness and the nightingale;
Dim wealds of vanished summer, peace of home,
And silence; and the faces of my friends.
-Siegfried Sassoon (Memory)
Interlude - Memory
December 23
The fireplace roars to life just as Gram opens her mouth to speak. Ivy turns to see an average sized man stumbling out of the flames. He runs his shoulder into the wall as he attempts to catch himself and curses under his breath.
"Language, Cas!" snaps Gram half-heartedly.
Cas looks up and grins mischievously, a twinkle entering his hazel eyes. "'Lo everyone," he greets as he shakes ash from his dark hair over Gram's pristine floor.
"Oh, Cas! Not my carpet!" cries Gram in exasperation.
Granddad chuckles and shakes his head as Ivy tries to hide her smile. "You'll never hear the end of that now, you know?"
Cas bends down and plants a kiss atop Gram's head as he says, "She knows I only do it to aggravate her, don't you?"
"And a fine aggravation you make," accuses Gram.
"Always," agrees Cas.
"Where are Mel and the children?" asks Gram, looking around in disappointment.
"Nice to know I'm always enough to please you," says Cas as he snorts and sits on the floor beside Ivy. "Amelia had a small do at her parents. She took Rem and Mira with her. They'll meet us here in time to leave."
"Why didn't you go with them?"
Cas glances at a photo perched on a low shelf and motions to it. "Asked me to help with something for today."
Gram nods in acceptance as Granddad asks, "Anything particularly special?"
The younger man shrugs and answers, "Nothing extravagant. You know how it is, though. It's Christmas and it's nice for them to have something, even considering the circumstances." He shakes his head to clear it and glances at the small family. "What are you three doing?"
"Gram's telling me a story," replies Ivy.
Cas looks at her, his lips quirking in an amused smirk. "Bit old for stories, aren't you?" he asks loftily.
Ivy huffs in annoyance and opens her mouth to reply with a sharp retort, but Gram answers first. "Not this type of story, she isn't," she murmurs softly, eyes watching Cas delicately.
Cas gazes at Gram in bemusement for a moment before his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. "Oh," he whispers as he swallows, staring at his shoes.
"I can wait," Gram tells him gently, "and finish it when you're not here."
"No," says Cas, finally looking up, "it's all right. You've already started and I'd hate for her to have to wait to hear the rest on my account." He turns to Ivy. "It's a very good story. 'S not all bad, after all." He tries to smile at Gram and Granddad, but even Ivy can tell that it is forced.
"If you're sure," replies Gram hesitantly.
Cas settles his back against the wall more comfortably. "Of course, go on. I haven't heard it in some time, either, and I'm rather fond of it myself."
Gram smiles in silent support and turns to Ivy. "Where was I?" She taps her chin for a silent moment. "Oh, yes, the funeral. Not a day anyone likes to remember, you can be sure. Everything became fairly hectic and downcast after that. I'm not sure why, but that was a turning point for the Order for some reason. Nothing was exactly the same as it had been. Yet life, as it is wont to do, went on, and everyone became rather one-track minded. The years passed and the war was fought. There was nothing else that could be done..."