A/N: Prompt Thirteen years, originally posted 24/5/07. Chapter title on this occasion pilfered from Christina Rosetti.
Another post-CotBP AU. Thanks to a (hopefully temporary) problem with my laptop (by which I mean It Cannot Be Used In Any Way) I can't access the most recent versions of any of my stories, but I'll get the rest of these posted eventually =)
She recognises him instantly, even from this distance. How could she not? There was a time, after all, when his face was as familiar to her as her own, and much more dear…it is older than she remembers, but beautiful still as he laughs; his hair still thick and black, his body still strong and lithe. A child races across the lawn now, nightgown clutched out of the way of rapidly moving bare feet. From the house a woman calls reprimand, but the little girl's escape has been successful: she flings herself on Will and her treble cry carries easily on the still evening air.
"Papa!"
Elizabeth's breath catches, despite herself, and she somehow finds herself clutching a branch, eyes smarting and breath coming in heavy gasps as though she is recovering from a blow. By the time she has calmed her treacherous body, the woman whose voice she had heard has emerged from the tall window, the reason for her delay apparent in her rolling gait and swollen stomach, clearly visible as the slanting light silhouettes her against the wall. Unconsciously, Elizabeth runs her hand over her own flat belly, hard with muscle and scarred by an unexpected thrust of a dirty knife. Will is holding the child on his shoulder, her dusky curls mingling with his own; he is smiling again as he turns to the woman and his face is clear, full of happiness, haunted by no memories of faded ghosts or fallen angels.
"Beth!" the woman calls, reaching again for the child.
Perhaps one memory, then.
She watches until they are gone.