Disclaimer: I don't own V for Vendetta.
I'm sorry it took so long to get up. Had a speck of trouble when I tried to update it. Sorry it's short, the next one will be longer. thank you for your patience.
"Don't look at me like that, boy. I'm not any crazier than I was earlier. Now, I have a story to tell and yours are to be the first ears to have heard the entire thing, so stay silent until I'm finished." Without further ado, she dove into her story.
"You see, love. The real V died thirty years ago. Or soit will be in two days. He lived through bullet wounds long enough to kill both Sutler and Creedybefore coming back here. I'm sure you know the story of his Viking Funeral from Finch. If not then I'll tell you another night. After he died, though, there was no one to carry on V for him. At first, I thought to let him fade into history and become a part of the books he loved so much. It wasn't until months later, as I began to unfurl from my mourning, that I realizedEngland still needed V. So, I did the only thing I could think of and became him. He was prepared for me to take this role. The keys were by his bed and there were instructions on how to do everything. I learned fighting from books and movies and simply remembering what he did. He had made some costumes in my size and left the materials and instructions on how to make more. Another note led me to a weapons maker and another told me how to care for them."
Basically, in the end, he had made it as easy as possible for me to become V and at first, I thought of nothing past hunting, waking up and taking care of myself and this place. It wasn't until the first time I took a bad blow that I began to think. An old Fingerman leading a bunch of hot-blooded lads, looking for a fight. Of course, I was cocky. Most of my prey before now had been drunk or inexperienced. He was prepared and he got me in the side worse than I am willing to admit and I began to realize that I was not immortal. I was the sole keeper of this place and the next V. I had to do what he had done. I had to prepare for when I was gone. I began looking for nice, strong men. Men who would make good fathers. I found two and with them I had two children. Neither of those families know me. Both were one night stands and of them came two children. Varick Martin, a twenty-eight year old journalist who has a lovely wife, one daughter and another on the way. You know him as the assistant editor of the London Times. The other is a lovely young actress named Verena Ellwood." Here, Evey grinned. "Yes, she is the same Verena who dated your best friend in high school and who you count as one of your closest confidants. Interesting how small this world is. But on with the story; about a year after giving birth to Verena, I met up with an old acquaintance, a Chief inspector Dominic Stone, or so he was at the time. He recognized me and we spent the night together. I must admit, you were always my favorite out of the three. Your brother and sister are darling and I do love them, but you have always been something special."
Short again, I'm sorry. I was ried from exams when I wrote it. I felt obligated at the time,even though I was cross-eyed and tired from a math exam and a dance demonstration, so you aren't allowed a negative thought against me for length,you hear? I could've written more afterwords, but this seemed like the perfect place to stop.I did edit it though...some.