Marquis. She was Marquis' daughter.
Amy should have realized.
It was obvious in retrospect. the way the rest of the Brockton Bay Brigade never told war stories about their battles with Marquis, much less his capture. The way they suddenly went silent if she walked into the room when they were talking about him.
Amy wondered if he even knew she existed.
Marquis had a code. Amy remembered that much. No harming women or children. He was still respected in Brockton Bay years after his incarceration. Not liked. certainly not missed. But respected. To hear people talk about him he'd been an institution. A stalwart pillar that no one ever thought would change.
Maybe... maybe he'd even be able to tell her who her mother was?
Amy could use some of that stability now. She couldn't exactly turn to Vicky's parents to figure things out. Was it so wrong to want parents of your own? Parents who loved you?
Maybe he'd have some advice about... everything that was going on. Some wise advise at least. Maybe he could tell her how to avoid making his mistakes. How to deal with Carol, and... Mark. Maybe she could even ask him about... Vicky? Marquis was in the Birdcage. And it wasn't like Carol or Vicky could find out about her sickness if he did react badly. It was... safe, to talk to him about it. And just maybe, he really could give her some advice?
Amy's heart fluttered in her chest, already nervous about the possibilities. Daring to hope for the first time since she realized exactly the sort of life she'd been locked into. Maybe if she talked to him he'd know the right thing to say, like fathers were supposed to. Maybe if she talked to him everything would get better? Maybe... Just maybe... he'd really love her.
She had to talk to him.
~Who's my Daddy?~
Worm Non-cross
Anyone who wants to use this scene in a story is welcome to it, just credit me for it and mention you're using it in a review.