Survivals
by Shadowy Star
Part 3
Reunion
"Hey, Dad," Geraldine said and leaned against the door frame, avoiding the armchair so not to increase an intense feeling of déjà-vu.
"My lost daughter," Damien Vryce said dryly, rising his head from the newspaper he'd been reading.
She burst out laughing. "Exactly," she grinned after calming down.
"And now, once back again, I do not suppose you're intending to stay? Just to talk to your poor old Dad?" His tone was stern but in his eyes danced dozens of mischievous little devils. She took it that he no longer was angry with her. Too bad, that was about to change again, she thought.
Grinning evilly, she rolled her eyes. "No. I'm going to do some packing. And might I suggest for you to do the same?"
"Why?"
"We're checking out, of course. It's time for me to move in with my husband and for you to meet your son-in-law. And the rest of the family, on this occasion. Besides, I promised you a birthday present."
"It's summer. My birthday is on the first of February," he said, with emphasis.
"I know," Geraldine said cheerfully. "But you'll feel like it were today."
"Somehow it makes me vulking nervous."
"Why so?" she asked, almost succeeding in looking innocent. Almost.
"Long experience," he answered dryly.
She thumbed her nose at him.
"There goes my paternal authority," he said.
"I don't care," Geraldine grinned, kissed him on the cheek, and went to pack her belongings.
"Well," Geraldine continued half an hour later when the first shock at the sight of her husband's features had vanished from her father's face. "Let's go on with the niceties. Damien Vryce – Damien da Silva. My father – my husband. And Dad, before you ask – no, I don't have an Electra Complex!" She smirked.
The look of utter agony upon her father's face wasn't exactly what Geraldine had expected for reward.
Her father looked as if he'd seen Hell. Damn, she thought, that wasn't what I expected. Not at all. If he reacts that way to my Damien then I'd rather not introduce him to my father-in-law. I wasn't planning to give him a coronary!
Damien Vryce tried to regain his composure and eventually succeeded. He'd understood, understood the implications of that incredible family likeness the younger man bore, understood finally –and completely belatedly– what his cunning daughter was planning.
Looking at the young man in front of him –his son-in-law now– he involuntarily registered all the likenesses to and differences from the man he'd met twenty years or so ago on an observation deck above a burning forest. Eyes green not black as true night – his mother's? Hair dark brown, again, not black – the woman had to be blond, he thought. At that, realization struck. Hard.
He was jealous. Utterly and completely jealous of a woman he was most likely to meet in a few minutes. He did wish Gerald all the best but to see his wife… How was he supposed to bear that? It was too much, too much…
He looked at his son-in-law again and some sense returned to him. It was unfair on this young man to let a past that had nothing to do with it influence a future he was about to build up together with his daughter. And, to judge by the look of utter love and devotion upon the both newly-weds' faces, that future would be a happy one. Damien smiled a genuine smile. "Make my daughter happy."
"Thank you, Dad," said Geraldine, her eyes shining with love and gratitude.
All right, let's go over with it, he thought. "I'd be pleased to meet your parents." Now that was an exaggeration if he'd ever heard one.
Geraldine grinned. Sure you are, she thought dryly.
Damien da Silva smiled. "My father only. My mother died in childbirth."
Damien Vryce exhaled a breath he didn't realized he'd been holding.
Once that was out of the picture, he felt anger rising. Daughter or not, he hated being manipulated.
"Would you mind if I talk to my daughter in private?" he asked his son-in-law, reining in his anger. For now.
The newly-weds exchanged a worried look. Geraldine gave her husband an reassuring nod and he left – not without another, even more worried, look over his shoulder.
"When did you plan to tell me you've married the son of my–" he cut off before he could say something … drastic. Perhaps he should have calmed down before starting this conversation.
"Your what?" Geraldine insisted, not fooled even for a second.
"My former companion," he finished lamely. No, he most surely should have calmed down.
"Don't start that again!" Geraldine said angrily, her temper, not yet as controlled as her father's just as fierce one, taking over. "I married Damien because I love him – not because of his father! One God of Erna, how could I have known who the bloody damn vulking Hell his father is?! I'm not able of Divining! You might like it or not I don't care – but you will accept my husband and his family!" She took a deep breath here to calm down. After a second or two she decided her patience with that stubborn father of hers had most definetely run out. "And stop denying. That will bring you nowhere – not with me and not with yourself either. So your what?"
"Should I say 'my only true love'?! Would that satisfy you?!" he demanded in an uncharacteristic display of anger, his control over his emotions shattering.
Geraldine smiled disarmingly, offering peace. "Don't you think I'm the wrong person to confess to?" She took her father's sleeve and pulled slightly into the direction of the living room. Considering her options as she did so. Given her father's reaction it probably would be the wisest to at least warn her father-in-law of what was coming through his door.
"I suggest you wait here," she said to her father.
Damien frowned. He felt somewhat like a doll being dragged around.
"It won't be long," she assured, then knocked softly and entered.
"What makes you think I have tales to tell?" the man now called Gerald da Silva asked, looking up at her from the book he'd obviously been reading.
"As I said. I'm a loremaster." And she felt the last one of the jigsaw pieces finding its place.
"I thought I already told you everything you wanted to know," he said.
"Not everything," she replied. "Let's start an exercise for our imaginations again. If I got it right, a Working as powerful as Gerald Tarrant's last one had to require a lot of energy."
He nodded slightly in agreement.
"But not all of that energy was needed for a shape shifting, even a permanent one," Geraldine continued thankfully. "So where did it all go?"
"It could have been used for many things," he shrugged but Geraldine refused to let him off the hook that easily. His shrug hadn't held even a resemblance of confidence. To her well educated eyes it had looked … uncertain.
"Why do you want to know?" he asked. Geraldine sensed there was a right and a wrong answer. She drew a deep breath. Time to make an educated guess.
"Because there's still something –one particular thing, to be precise,– I simply don't understand."
"Now would you please be precise and tell me?" he snorted.
Geraldine smiled.
"I just can't believe that a man of Gerald Tarrant's intelligence and experience with … well, let's say cheating death… wouldn't have taken care of a back door in his … arrangement. He managed to keep his soul out of the Unnamed Ones' reach for more than nine hundred years and to do so successfully. I somehow doubt there would be someone or something on Erna that could have stopped Gerald Tarrant from getting what he wanted."
"And what, only hypothetically speaking of course, might that have been?"
Geraldine inwardly started a countdown.
Ten, nine, eight, seven–
A knocking on the door cut through the silence as sharply as a knife.
Yes!
She was Damien Vryce's daughter for a reason.
She gave her opponent a bright, knowing smile. "This." And to the door she said: "Enter."
She looked from her father to her father-in-law. And back again.
The silence grew deeper. Everything felt like frozen in time. Golden flakes of dust danced in white sun beams. Past erasing present.
Geraldine stood still, caught in the moment's spell, her artist's soul singing.
She saw and appreciated the beauty in that split second, in two pair of brown eyes and one black, in the knowing silence, in words unsaid and questions answered without a sound… In quiet exchange of glances and gazes, of softening eyes and curving of lips, of volumes of meaning and a conversation she was gently being excluded from.
The silence stretched further, becoming tense, becoming heavy, becoming expectant and Geraldine answered its melody easily, her voice soft enough not to obliterate the harmony of it, a gentle counterpoint.
"Mer da Silva, may I introduce – my father, Doctor Damien Vryce," she said.
Something changed, tension rising, reaching for all three of them.
"Dad," Geraldine continued. "This is Mer da Silva, my father-in-law."
Still nothing from neither of the two but the silence fled, was altered, and again, she responded to that, to the need for a conclusion.
Turning around to go and passing by her father in the process, she softly spoke, her words a last note to the music between the three of them.
"Happy Birthday."
Three days later, she was ready to admit playing matchmaker on those two stubborn as mules males might have been a bad idea.
"Dad!" she said, with emphasis. She was standing, again, in the library, and having the same conversation with her father they'd had each day before. Only this time, she decided, she wouldn't let her father get away as before.
"Did it ever occur to you that if anyone keeps telling you you're being an idiot maybe it's because you are?"
That earned her a furious glare.
"What did I do this time?!"
"You've been avoiding Gerald for days now! I didn't even know before how one can manage to avoid another when living in the same house!"
"And did it possibly occur to you that to set up your poor old Dad with a much younger man was not that brilliant an idea?!" he retorted angrily.
"No," she said serenely, "because I thought that neither of you looks his age and therefore decided not to bother," Geraldine smiled cheerfully, leaning over to get a book from the shelf to her right.
"What do you mean?" he asked and realized, of course belatedly, he'd fallen for that old trick.
"Dad," Geraldine said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes again. "Did you look into a mirror lately?"
"Of course," he said, confused. "Every morning while shaving."
"Then take a closer look next time!"
With that, she whirled around and left.
Later this morning, Damien Vryce tried to get his daughter into explaining what she'd meant but only got an innocent look and a cheerful smile for answer. Which was so not helping. Well, maybe after the breakfast…
Later the same morning, Geraldine was looking down at her blueberry muffin –she thankfully didn't have any of the early pregnancy problems yet–, very careful not to meet either older man's eyes.
Damn!
Breakfast was supposed to be a cheerful affair not the meteorological phenomenon usually known as the calm before the storm.
Alright, she thought angrily. Time to change that.
She didn't know what happened between them the other day. All she knew that the two didn't talk for long, since she'd seen her father leaving the library only minutes after she did. And today, after having exchanged a curt 'Morning!', both her father and father-in-law had walked to their seats and hadn't speak a word to each other.
Well, she didn't damn care! They should consider to behave like adults or… She didn't get enough time to figure out the 'or' because just then, the perfect moment jumped into existence.
"Would you please pass me the honey?" Gerald da Silva said icily to Damien Vryce who was sitting across the huge table in the equally huge dining room.
"Honey? How sweet…" she made dreamily, looking straight into her namesake's eyes. "Don't you think?" And she added a quick glance in her father's direction just to make sure no one would think she was talking about sweets.
Gerald's face acquired a funny expression for a tiny moment, something between disbelief, anger and the urgent need to laugh, and then, he retorted. "Why, of course is honey sweet."
Geraldine had expected no less.
"So you like your Honey?" she asked innocently and had the rare pleasure of watching Gerald da Silva rendered speechless. There was no way he could admit that and, by the look on his face, he knew that.
Next to her, her Damien tried to stifle a chuckle.
And Damien Vryce burst out laughing.
Yesss, Geraldine thought, unsuccessfully trying to keep her satisfaction from her features.
Her namesake send a murderous glare her way, and then, much to everyone's surprise, joined in the fun.
"Nice phrasing," he admitted finally with a slight incline of his head when the collective attention returned to breakfast again.
"Glad to be of help," Geraldine said, her eyes practically glowing with mischief. "Oh, and would you please stop batting your eyelashes on my father," she added as an afterthought.
"I'm not commenting this," Gerald said.
"I think you just did." She said, smiling evilly.
It was then when both Damiens exchanged a look and, again, burst into gales of laughter.
For the rest of their breakfast there was a slight warming in the atmosphere, and Geraldine allowed herself to relax a little. And when later that day she watched her father follow Gerald to the same library where she and said father had had their argument this morning, the air seemed calmer between them, and there was even a slight bounce to her father's step.
Geraldine smiled. Her smile widened as two strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist.
"Damien," she said, leaning back into her husband's embrace.
"What are you doing?" he asked, lying tiny kisses to the side of her neck.
"Assessing collateral damage, one could say." Then, she gasped as Damien's lips found that spot right beneath her ear and all thoughts of stubborn fathers fled her. With one graceful movement she turned around, kissed her husband's soft lips and shoved him into the nearest room to the right which appeared to be the kitchen.
"Do you want to cook?" he asked with a grin, his emerald eyes sparkling. He was so not thinking about cooking.
She got that mischievous look in her eyes he loved so much. "No. I can't cook," she admitted, still smiling.
"What? Not at all?"
"No. The only thing I can make without burning down half the house are instant noodles."
Her husband smiled. "Then how did you survive?"
"My father does all the cooking. He's great at it."
"Lucky you. I had to learn that all because my father doesn't know a single thing about it."
Then, he frowned.
"Our families just so complete each other. That's somehow so coincidental…"
Geraldine sighed softly. She hated not being able to tell her husband what she knew and he needed to know. Think, she ordered herself. You're a loremaster, you're supposed to be smart, so think of something right this instant.
And then she grinned. What had worked with her namesake, should do perfectly with his son. Storytelling was her job, after all.
"Well," she said cheerfully and teasingly kissed him on the corner on his mouth. "I'm hungry."
He smiled happily. There were lots of things a person could hunger for.
"So if you'd like to do something about that, I'd like to tell you a story in return. Or rather, two."
"A story?"
"I'm a loremaster, remember?"
"Is it a story about volcanoes? I'm a seismologist, remember?" he asked eagerly.
"Well, the first one has a volcano in it, and the second … well, we'll have to see about that."
He grinned, and then kissed her.
She laughed. "Oh no, Love, the real story first. On the other hand," she made thoughtfully, "you may have a chance to convince me otherwise."
"Oh, only one chance? Guess, I should make good use of it," he said smugly, pressing them together again.
And at that point, Geraldine couldn't care less about the stubborn rest of her family.
Inside the library, two men were completely unaware of the fact that right now they weren't on the mind of two certain newly-weds who simply had better things to do.
They were standing with only a few feet parting them, looking anywhere but at each other.
"I honestly never expected you to become a family man," Gerald said, neutrally.
"And just when did you get that much insight into a stranger's mind?" Damien shot back, angrily.
"Since said stranger showed up at my doorstep!" Gerald retorted.
"Something I'm starting to regret, trust me on that," Damien said, calming down, enjoying their familiar banter.
"I trust you. You wouldn't be here if I didn't. Us being in-laws or not."
Damien felt his heart cease beating. He met the other man's eyes straight on, not recognizing the emotion in those black eyes but acknowledging its strength. What could he say to answer that?
"Speaking of which," Gerald continued, "you don't want to explain how the vulk your daughter managed that?"
"Stop stealing my lines." But there was a shadow of a smile in his voice and he looked much younger all of a sudden.
Silence slowly crept into the room as neither spoke.
Damien's thoughts were on times and dreams long gone… Sadness once again engulfed his heart.
Finally, he raised his eyes to meet those of his former companion, his still friend and his possible lover. His only love.
"So," Damien said, not letting the sadness show in his eyes.
"So," Gerald echoed, his black eyes, too, revealing nothing.
Damien smiled. Some things never changed.
"Something funny?" the other man asked and Damien's smile widened.
"I was thinking about continuality," he answered lightly. "Isn't it funny that amid big changes we find comfort in small things that remain unchanged?"
Gerald's eyes widened at that just a tiny bit. "Perhaps we're used to those small things. Perhaps we like them."
"Perhaps," Damien nodded slightly. "Or it's because they remind us of the past." He couldn't hide the sadness anymore and he didn't want to. What the Hell… "Of the past we miss. Badly."
A gasp escaped Gerald's lips at that, and Damien was surprised to see the black eyes soften, their surface breaking, showing–
"The past we loved," Gerald said, his eyes soft, sincere, open, and Damien felt his heart clench in his chest. Such hope was in those eyes, so unlike Gerald to show this but this was a new life and perhaps that was one of the things that had changed…
"Yes, we did," he said, smiling. And saw his smile reflected in the black eyes and on the thin lips.
Silence reigned again but it was connecting them and no longer parting.
When black met hazel brown again their was an understanding flowing between them and more than that.
"Perhaps," Gerald began, "we should remember the past." And he smiled reassuringly at his former companion, his still friend and his future lover. His only love. "And see what future we can build upon it."
"It wouldn't be easy." Damien's smile was something in between joy and sadness. The sadness was still present but no longer the only inhabitant of his heart.
"Yes," a soft agreement and an answering smile, just like his own, filled with the same joy and sadness but also with much, much more – hope, relief, love. "And it would take time, I guess?"
"Yes," Damien answered.
"But wouldn't it be worth trying?"
"More than that, Gerald, more than that."
And in this moment, Damien accepted the offer. As he accepted the man offering.
There was still much more to be resolved between them but they would take one step at a time and together, they would success.
Another two days later, Geraldine had to admit things were improving. No more icy glares, no more icy words, no more icy smiles. If it went at that pace, they could turn off the heat in only a few centuries. Definitely improvement to 'never', she thought sarcastically as she watched another gathering of people to sit down and consume food, otherwise known as dinner.
And yet, she couldn't help but observe, something had definitely changed since the day before yesterday. Something had relaxed in both men. It wasn't much, but it was a start. And of course, she was going to enjoy every tiny scene of that spectacle.
So now, she just sat there, watching that mulish father of hers discussing something involving faith and Church with her not-a-bit-less-stubborn father-in-law.
Having decided that those two could be left without surveillance for a few minutes, she was just about to play footsie with her husband when Gerald said something and looked at the older Damien just the right way to…
"Stop flirting that obviously!" Geraldine demanded, unsuccessfully trying to sound serious. "That's becoming embarrassing."
Damien da Silva laughed, reached over, and pulled his wife into his lap. "Never mind, Love. In my family, parents only exist for the sole reason to embarrass their children."
"Though I really enjoy your company," Gerald said to his daughter-in-law, "are you sure you want to stay married to this disappointment of a son?"
Geraldine chuckled softly and wrapped her arms around her husband's waist.
"That remains to be seen," she said playfully. "So far, I'm perfectly content."
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," said husband answered. And then the newly-weds exchanged a look that successfully horrified Geraldine's father as he managed to catch it.
"Stop right there," he told his daughter. "Whatever you do, you better don't. And you, my dear son-in-law," he warned, "stop thinking about participating in whatever she's planned."
"Who, me? Now what could I possibly have in mind?" Geraldine said, the very picture of an unrightfully accused soul.
"What do you mean?" Gerald asked, affection clear in his eyes as he looked at the other man.
Damien Vryce smiled a huge smile in response and explained. "Well, usually, when my genius daughter over there has that look on her face, you better run as fast as you can."
"Dad!" Geraldine protested loudly, her efforts to stop laughing only fairly successful. "Unfair!" she exclaimed.
"I happen to think that, too," the younger Damien said, grinning widely.
"Gerald, if you're not going to help me, I swear, I go and paint your house pink all over!"
Gerald shuddered. "You go and try that and I'll drop a bottle of my latest chemistry experiment onto your bed!"
"So what? It belongs to you, in the end. I'll just move out!"
"No, you won't!"
Silence reigned then, and three pairs of eyes, two hazel brown, one emerald green, looked at him in shock.
"What?" Damien Vryce whispered barely audible.
"For God's sake!" Geraldine said exasperatedly to the air between the two men. Now just who did she get her stubbornness from? "Finish your business! Or decide not to."
Damien da Silva looked at his father then at his wife again. And burst into laughter.
That got a smile out of both older men, and Geraldine got an idea.
"Love," she turned to her husband, smiling wickedly, "should we go and set a good example for them to follow?"
He got with the program instantly. "I think it's a brilliant idea!" And then he pulled her closer.
"It's called a kiss," Geraldine informed the other two a little time lately, after stopping demonstrate just this. "It's really easy." And to her husband, she continued. "At least, lack of education isn't going to be an excuse anymore. Come on, let's leave them to their business. Which's long overdue, by the way."
And before any of them could protest, Geraldine turned and exited the room, with her husband and a stunned silence in her wake.
"Do you think this will come to some sort of a happy ending?" he asked as they made their way down the corridor.
"Knowing my father I rather doubt it," Geraldine answered, grabbing her sun hat.
"Knowing my father I'd be glad if it comes to any ending," he added then.
At that, she laughed.
They closed the entrance door behind them.
"Do you think there will be something left of the house when we're back?"
"I don't want to find out in the first place. Let's go," Geraldine said. And smiled.
Much later this evening her father-in-law found her in the living room.
"We need to talk," he said, curtly.
"Finally. I almost felt neglected, with all your attention an my father," she leered.
"You aren't trying to play matchmaker on us, are you?" Gerald da Silva asked suspiciously.
Geraldine gave him one of her famous, wicked smiles. "Me? Never!"
He raised a skeptical brow at that.
"Of course I do. How could I resist?" Her smile grew wider and even more wicked as she reconsidered his last remark. "But I do believe there's no need for that anymore. Usually two people who refer to themselves as 'us' can be considered a couple, don't you think?"
He growled quietly at that, and she smiled at him far too angelically to appear innocent.
"That's all daughterly duty, you know."
TBC…