Author's Notes:
I changed up some points in the previous chapter: I realized that having the Behemoth be a submersible would not work, so I changed it back to being the Osman's companion creature, as per canon.
The spires of Lionsgate City poked up through the blanket of mist and the surrounding mountains, and Matt sighed contentedly. He'd forgotten how good a homecoming could feel. The airship's steering wheels hummed underneath his fingers with her engine's pitch, slow and steady like a gentle lullaby guiding his sure way home.
A large array of reports from speaking tubes around the bridge were being made in quick order as the airship neared the city's rather impressive aeroharbor — none so large as Paris' Heliodrome, of course, but still magnificently pristine besides the vast airfield set to the sides, out of the way of the usual hustle and bustle. Matt adjusted the controls accordingly, and the Aurora made her graceful arc around the outer fringes of the city, gently aligning herself to avoid catching the wind. They had been instructed to wait for the clearance of the largest airfield, the only one here that had enough length and breadth to accommodate a 900-foot airliner with ease.
Not that they couldn't land in the smaller ones, since the breeze was light and the weather fine, and Matt had no doubt he and his crew could make it, but he supposed it was better to not take unnecessary risks.
It was approaching midmorning, though near the flat expanse of the airfield, the thin mist that hung about the rest of the city had been dispersed by the first fleeting rays of the sun. They were scarcely two miles distant, now, and with a small reluctance, Matt called for his third officer to wake Captain Rideau, who had been on watch for the better part of the night and was no doubt sleeping in his cabin. Protocol dictated that a captain had to be on the bridge for landing and take-off, no matter how capable his acting officers were at handling matters in his absence.
"Shouldn't you also be telling me to wake the passengers?" a voice asked from behind. Matt smiled as he turned to face the ship's second steward, his friend Baz Hilcock. Of the many changes in crew during his years at the Academy, he was glad that Baz hadn't been among them — the ship was little enough like the old Aurora, without Captain Walken's steady leadership and chef Vlad's cooking, but more of the now-Captain Rideau's stern disapproval. But the Aurora was the Aurora, and it would always be his home aloft. He still had to suppress a grin every now and then when he neared the cargo bays, remembering the bold and beautiful auburn-haired girl stepping off her ornithopter with chaperone in tow.
"They're asleep still?" he replied, a little sarcastic edge in his voice. Some officers listening to this exchange laughed — for sky sailors, a seven hours' night's rest was the most anyone could hope for, not counting the time taken from it to eat and socialize. Most of the people they were ferrying, however, slept usually nine or more hours at a time, and many of them did not have the habit to rise before eleven.
"I have my bugle ready, never fear," Baz said cheerfully. "How long are we waiting?"
"We've half an hour yet, judging from the queue," he said, a little bit wistful, for he thought he would not mind seeing some of the first class passengers woken by a bugle.
"Are we still behind schedule?"
"Yeah. After this wait, we'll be almost three hours behind."
"People will grumble about that. They're always in such a hurry to leave," Baz said, shaking his head.
Matt grinned. "Just feed them fresh croissants. Solves any problems."
Baz laughed and clapped him on the shoulder before he disappearing back through the bridge door. Despite being three years older, the easy-going Australian had remained one of Matt's closest friends even during the years he spent in Paris, and they were each other's best men during their respective weddings. It was a strange notion, to think that he and Baz had both been young cabin boys just four years ago; now, they were both married, with a stable family and a stable career, and back together on the same ship. A very nice turn of fate.
Chuckling, he set out to do another check of the ship's ballast boards and airsacs. When Captain Rideau comes to the bridge he'd likely be cranky from the lack of sleep, and Matt didn't fancy letting him find a small flaw just so he could vent his irritation. Goodness knew how little the Captain thought of his first officer; the strict commander had taken it upon himself to blame every small scrap of mismanagement on Matt. Had Sir Otto Lunardi — knighted for the space expedition — not insisted Matt be put onboard the Aurora, Captain Rideau would've never had him.
Matt supposed that Captain Rideau's undue attention also served, in a perverse fashion, as a way to protect him from those who were disgruntled or even jealous of his swift rise from cabin boy to second-in-command — if they saw how badly he were treated by the Captain, they might not think his position so enviable after all. All the same, though, whether or not it was for maintaining the good atmosphere of the ship, a captain certainly didn't have to enjoy picking on his first officer quite so much.
Said Captain presently came onto the bridge just after the ground station radioed permission to land. Matt sighed — it appeared he would not be able to command the landing after all. He always enjoyed watching the massive airship lower herself down, while controlling the very ratio of her buoyancy. He had taken it upon himself to waste as little hydrium as possible every landing, and rejoiced each time in beating his own records.
"Status report, Cruse," snapped Captain Rideau, walking around the bridge to survey the condition. To his disappointment perhaps, everything was shipshape.
"We just got radioed permission to land, sir," Matt said succinctly, smiling inwardly at this small triumph. "Airfield C3 is now clear. We are to make our approach due southeast."
The Captain nodded, scowled some more, and stepped up to the command post as Matt stepped aside. After a few more minutes of finding nothing to complain of — even the weather was gorgeous— he sighed in his usual surly way and dismissed Matt to make the landing announcements to the passengers. Matt took a last forlorn look at the panorama of the bridge, before saluting and making his way to the A deck lounges where most of the passengers were sure to be.
Here he found them indeed, most drowsing on armchairs, some looking out the windows. A few cabin boys and stewards were making their rounds, taking orders for drinks and light snacks. There wasn't time for a full breakfast, but if his years on the Aurora had taught him anything, it was that passengers were nearly always hungry. It also annoyed him how little they cared about the amazing ship that carried their lazy carcasses around the globe. They have sailed well over six thousand miles, seen everything from the deep blue depths of the Atlantic to the great wilderness of the Arctic tundra, but all their passengers seemed to care about was the menu for the next meal.
But alas, they were paying customers, and he shook those thoughts away. He strode over to the center of the room, mentally rehearsing his speech one last time. This part was always a little embarrassing for him, because one, he saw very little reason for the announcement, and two, he was not used to too much attention. All the same he cleared his throat and said it loudly, making sure his voice can be heard all over the lounge: the ship was landing in about twenty minutes, the weather and temperature of Lionsgate City, reminders about their passports, sincere apologies for the wait and the delay and thanking them for their understanding, the crew at their service for food and refreshments, and on, and on, and on, until finally, "On behalf of the Captain and the Lunardi Line, we thank you for choosing to fly with us, and hope you have enjoyed your journey; it has been our pleasure to serve all of you, and we hope that in the future we will have a chance to do so again. Thank you."
He let out a breath and bowed as the lounge clicked into polite applause, from those who were awake to hear the speech anyway, and his cheeks reddened as he saw Baz among one of the crew hanging out by the sides, the Australian's face a wry smirk. Matt remembered this same speech from back when he was still a cabin boy, done by the then-first-officer Rideau, and it had always struck him as a bit shallow and insincere. Even more so now, he imagined, coming from a blushing eighteen-year-old instead of a serious, matter-of-fact veteran officer.
Fortunately the passengers were shortly occupied with their refreshments and of the view of the city, Lionsgate Bridge visible in the far distant, the strengthening sunrise to the east spilling dashes of orange and yellow on the mist and skyscrapers. The vista was finally enough to render anyone into quiet admiration, and Matt smiled as he felt the familiar excitement of homecoming. There was only time for a minor shore leave, two days including this one, but he hadn't been properly home for three months and was very much looking forward to seeing his family again. Elena was about to turn one as well, and the thought of the feisty baby sent a warm rush through his heart. He wondered if she could talk yet, and made a mental note to share news of the baby with Kate.
Instantly he felt a pang of longing. They might be newly-wed, but they had not even been together three days after their wedding before their respective duties drew them away from each other again, and the last time they saw each other was on his birthday back in May; he'd even missed hers. It seemed torture to have to wait now until mid-August to see her, especially after having been so close to London. That was another month and a half of nothing but letters and telegrams to keep in touch.
As he made his way to his own cabin to pack his stuff which he didn't have a chance to last night, he felt the airship sink very slightly — the ground crew must have latched on, and was helping to pull her in. The rest of the landing went by quickly and swimmingly, though the ship had to be walked to the hangar, and only then everyone could properly disembark. The lumbering passengers took quite a while to do so, looking not at all like people who were late, or in a hurry. The luggage were lowered onto the ground, and a crowd was hanging about there, picking out their own. A thin group of welcomers were also about, and Matt saw many of the ladies and gentlemen helped to their own biomotor cars while the rest of their attendants dragged over the luggage. As an officer, he had to stand crisply by the ship as all this hustle and bustle occurred, and it was nearly noon before the very last stragglers dispersed through the hangar entrance.
"Well, that's the last o' them," Baz grumbled beside him. Matt smiled.
"You just want to go to a bar," he said. "Not as if you're in much of a hurry."
"Ey, I know how you feel about liquor Matt, but don't go around saying as if it's an unredeemable sin to grab a drink or two from time to time," Baz said, nudging him with his shoulders. "In any case, I wasn't planning on drinkin'."
"Really?"
"You bloody loon, don't got to sound so suspicious!" Baz laughed. "I just wanted to see this Ellie you kept going on about."
"You saw her at the wedding!"
"Aye, that was months ago, and she was mostly sleepin'. Babies grow fast, don't they?"
"Not as fast as your belly if you keep on with your drinking — ow, alright, alright." He grinned, and unexpectedly discovered how much he loved the idea. Baz and his wife Teresa weren't planning on children yet (to be fair, Ellie hadn't exactly been planned, either), but Baz was always yammering about how cute Ellie was and how he'd like a daughter as well.
"So that's a yes?"
"Yeah, alright. But who are you kidding? You know you're welcome at our place any time."
Baz humphed somewhat smugly. "Don't forget, I'm also her godfather. I have exclusive visitation rights — oof."
"Just don't teach her any strange things!"
ooo
They got to the Cruse's house just in time for lunch. As soon as they stepped out of the cab, Matt was greeted by an indignant "You're late! Why are you so late?" before he got tackled onto the grass by Isabelle. He laughed and hugged her close as she planted kisses on his cheeks. The smell of flowers was all around them, the small yard full of growth and all of them in the full bloom of summer.
"Izzie, get up, you'll dirty his uniform," said Sylvia from the door, managing to sound rather snobbish. "Oh, hello, Mr. Hilcock," she said, noticing and suddenly back to a formal young lady.
"Syl, Izzie, how do you do?"
"Very well, thank you. Please excuse, er…" She shrugged helplessly at her brother and her younger sister. Not knowing what to do, she shouted, "Mom! They're here!"
"It sure is nice to have siblings," Baz said.
"Not when they're pure evil it's not! Oi, Izzie, stop that!"
"Never!" Izzie cried, and proceeded to tickle her brother to a red-faced mess, or at least until Mrs. Cruse came out to rescue her son.
"Oh, enough! What are you doing to my poor flowers?" she called down now from the door, looking at the two of them with a merry twinkle in her eyes. Picking grass and dirt from his hair, Matt stood up with the help of his sisters and grinned.
"Hey, Mom," he said. "Sorry I'm a bit late."
"A bit?" cried Izzie indignantly.
"You're taller than your father now," his mother said after a few moments. "Hello, Baz! Welcome. Matt hadn't told me you were coming."
"I hope I'm not too much of a bother."
"Not at all, not at all!" she said, and the tiny sorrow that had settled in her eyes dissipated. "Come in, come in, perfect timing actually. We were just about to have lunch."
Just then, a tiny face peeked from behind her legs, and Matt blinked. Big, blue eyes with delicate features, currently wearing a timid expression.
"Ellie!" he cried as he rushed forward. The little head retreated back a little, her pale little fingers curled around the skin of Mom's legs. Matt stopped, overjoyed.
"She can walk now?" Baz exclaimed, and the two of them bent down with their hands on their knees, peering at the toddler. "Golly, Matt, I told you they grow fast!"
Mrs. Cruse looked down. "Oh, goodness, Ellie, I thought I told you to wait! But yes, as you can see, she can take quite a few steps. She's a very quick learner — but with some temper!"
"She was playing in the yard once," Izzie interjected, "when Darcy — that's the neighbor's dog — came around at her. I was sitting on the porch and I was just about to go chase it away when she yelled and hit it on the nose!"
"And she didn't cry, at all," added Sylvia, proud as if it were her own accomplishment. "Didn't you, Ellie?"
The baby cooed at her and gurgled, and as they all watched, she walked out from under the shelter of Mom's legs in wobbly steps, and stopped, scrutinizing the newcomers.
"She's got your eyes, mate," Baz whispered, suddenly hushed as if he was afraid of disturbing the child. "Look at them! That sky blue."
"Yeah," said Matt, his chest puffing up in pride. "I've often been told."
"That's our papa's eyes as well," Sylvia informed him. "It's no fair Matt's the only one who got it."
"I think brown eyes are good on you too, Syl," Matt said soothingly, suppressing a smile.
"They're so plain," she said.
"Oh, hush up Sylvia, stop complaining about your eye color. Ellie," Mrs. Cruse called down. "Look who's here?"
"Hey, Ellie," Matt said, softly. "Do you remember me?"
"Or me?" Baz said, then added somewhat dejectedly, "I reckon you won't; the last time I saw you, you were sleeping your adorable little head off."
Ellie looked between the two young men, scrunched up her face a little, and cooed some more. From one of her hands trailed a doll, and she stood there studying the two of them with what almost seemed to be sentience, not just the evanescent curiosity of toddlers. Then, to Matt's astonishment, she walked another few steps to him, and held out her arms for a hug.
"Papa," she said, then gurgled.
Everyone gasped.
"Did she just say Papa?" Izzie asked, wide-eyed with breathless joy. "Ellie, did you just say Papa?"
In response, Ellie smiled broadly at her and muttered some incomprehensible baby jabber. But the one word had been enough — there was no doubt in Matt's mind. Ellie gurgled again and held out her tiny arms higher, and almost in a daze, Matt bent down to pick up his daughter, who he hadn't seen in three months, and who still remembered him. His own heart felt like it could scarcely beat any faster, the love coursing within was so torrential and sharp and fierce. He felt his vision blurring a little, felt Ellie's soft tiny fingers pinching his cheeks.
"Hi," he whispered to her. "Hi, Ellie. Hello."
"Papa," she said, then laughed. This time, every one of them was ready for her words, and at once the two girls exploded into exuberant squealing, and Baz said numerous variations of "Oh my God, she called you Papa, mate!" Matt was surprised to see his mother wiping away a tear — but then he too was on the verge of crying.
"You sneaky little girl!" Izzie cried as she took one of Ellie's tiny hands and watched it grab onto her finger. "You could talk!"
"You mean, she's never talked before?" He was barely able to keep his unsteady voice from breaking.
"No! 'Papa' was her first word!"
Matt could no longer resist, and kissed Ellie full on the cheek, again and again. The baby's small, soft body was radiating warmth even in the noonday sun, and her tiny hands were touching around his chin, his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, her fingers like tickling tendrils of silk. Her gurgling laughter was the dearest thing he'd ever heard. She smelled of soap and milk, and her little spine in his hand felt fragile but full of restless energy. She was no doubt the most precious person in the world to him, aside from Kate.
"You ought have told us you could talk," Sylvia said with mock severity to the baby, who cooed at her and giggled, grabbing fistfuls of Matt's hair.
"Papapa," she said, beating on his head like a drum. Matt kissed her again, and she seemed to like it for she screeched in delight and wriggled in his arm.
"But how?" he asked, looking around at his family. "I haven't been home for —"
"Well, you better thank me," Izzie huffed. "I'm the one who took her to your photograph every day and pointed it out to say Papa."
"No, that was my idea!" said Sylvia, and the two girls started to argue.
"Oh, heavens," Mom said. "Stop that, you two! Here, let me help you boys take that in."
"No, no, I'm fine, Mrs. Cruse."
"Yeah, just go ahead, Mom."
Matt went back to the yard to pick up his small suitcase, hefting it with his free hand. Then, after making sure that Ellie wouldn't bump her head on the side frames, he stepped into the house, his two sisters and his friend closely behind.
The place hadn't changed much since the last time he visited, except round toys now lay on tables and chairs, and he saw stacks of clean diapers tucked away in the corner. There were hints of crayon stains on an otherwise spotless wall, and Matt winced, for he knew how much Mom prided herself on a cleanly household. Taking care of a baby was exhausting work, and he felt guilty for leaving it to her.
"Oh, nonsense," she said when he thanked her and apologized. "She's a perfect little lady; aren't you, Ellie? Yes you are."
Ellie clapped and giggled.
"Plus," Mom said, "I dare say you'd do a very bad job of it if I left her in your hands — or Kate's for that matter. That's why I didn't want you two to take her to Paris, back when you asked me."
Baz snickered from behind, and Matt kicked back at his shin.
"I thought it was because you said you would miss her!"
"That's just part of it," she said defensively. "But also because I would worry too much if I left her to you two."
"All seriousness mate, if you had time to live with Kate alone, at your age, you wouldn't want a baby soiling things. Part o' the reason Teresa and I don't want one, not yet."
"Yes, Baz is exactly right. You were both still in school. Did you think you could take care of Ellie while handling all the school and housework?"
Matt frowned. "Well, Kate I can understand, but still, Mom, I'm not that bad, am I? I helped take care of Izzie, at least."
"You hardly knew how to change a diaper," she chided him, with some amusement. "The most you did was recite the stories your Papa told you."
"And he always botched them up," Izzie added, indignant and dodging a half-hearted swing of Matt's suitcase. "Papa told them much better. Kate would be worse than you, though, I admit. She would probably misplace Ellie in the microscope cabinet or something."
"I could see that happening," Baz muttered, and Matt gave him another kick.
The smells of baking fish and pasta sauce wafted from the kitchen, and Matt and Baz set down their suitcases in the living room before they all went to the dining room. Izzie and Sylvia plopped themselves down to his either side, though when Matt tried to get Ellie to sit in her high chair, she started squalling, and it was only with the lure of her milk bottle that she let go.
"She's a little handful," Mrs. Cruse said adoringly as she cut out large pieces of the delicious-smelling fish. The baby in question was draining the bottle's contents with truly impressive speed. "Quite like Sylvia when she was small," she added, to Sylvia's indignant "Hey!".
Izzie, in the mean time, was repeating "Auntie" very loudly in Ellie's ears and pointing to herself, evidently trying to expand the baby's vocabulary. Ellie ignored her aunt's antics, finished the bottle, burped contentedly, and finally held out her hands towards Matt once more.
"Papa," she said, and Izzie saw her chance slipping away. She put her face in front of Elena.
"Auntie!" said the girl in a last ditch effort, gesturing wildly to herself. "I'm auntie. Say, auntie. Awn-tee."
"Papa," Elena replied, unperturbed, and gurgled. She held out her hand once more, and Izzie sank back to her chair in defeat. Matt couldn't help but laugh.
"It's not a bit fair," Izzie said in a pout. "Just because 'Papa' is easier to pronounce than 'Auntie'! And I bet it's just because she hasn't seen you, you're getting all the attention." She pushed her fish around, stared balefully at the baby, and proceeded to sulk. Matt leaned over to pick up the baby from her high chair and kissed her soft cheeks. The baby's hands grabbed at the collars of his shirt and, intrigued by the texture perhaps, lingered there to stay.
"Well," Sylvia said, daintily putting down her fork, "even if she does say auntie, it'll be me she says it to."
"No it won't!"
"Yes it will. I'm the older auntie."
"That doesn't matter!"
"Girls!" Mrs. Cruse said, exasperated. "Please, just one lunch without bickering."
They both grumbled into their fish.
"Hmm, now that I think about it," Baz said, "what d'ya reckon she'll call me, then? I'm bound to be something long and difficult to pronounce."
"If you don't mind her calling your name, yours would be the shortest."
"Still not as easy as Papa!" chimed Izzie.
"It'll be Uncle, I'm sure," Mrs. Cruse smiled.
"Mom'll secretly teach her to say Grandma before she can say her next word," Matt joked. Mrs. Cruse looked indignant, but before she could respond, the doorbell rang.
Everyone around the table looked up. Even Ellie did.
"Gah?" she said.
"I'll go check who it is," Mom said as she got up from the table.
"I'll go too!" Izzie said and hopped down from her chair. Ellie, seeing nothing worthy of her attention, proceeded to writhe around in Matt's arms and dribble all over the place.
"Hey there Ellie," Matt said, grabbing a napkin and wiping her mouth. "Are you still hungry?"
"Burp," said Ellie. She poked up her tiny arms in a very impressive yawn, and smacked her lips together like she was chewing on imaginary food. "Papa," she said, evidently pleased with herself.
"Yeah?"
"She's telling you to get her to bed," Sylvia told him, a little smug.
"Oh," Matt said, cursing himself for an idiot. "Where is her —"
But before he could finish the sentence, his mother came bustling back in, looking very… puzzled. Izzie came bounding behind her.
"Mom," Matt said. "Who was —?"
"Baz, would you help hold her?" Mrs. Cruse asked, nodding at Ellie. "Matt, there are people here to see you. They are from the Ministry of Air."
Author's Notes:
Ellie (Elena) is not Kate's daughter; she is Nadira's (I'll eventually get to this in FFF). All anyone needs to know here is that Kate has agreed to be the mom, that Matt and Kate are both back on friendly terms with Nadira, and that most of the couple's closer friends know of this (e.g. Baz).
