Again far too many lovely reviews from equally beautiful people to reply properly. But here's a highlight from the much beloved MollyMayhem84 - 'That's right, you've just been Dale Horvarth'd. His eyebrows of judgement are judging you right now.'
Ha-fucking-ha! That was perhaps the funniest thing I've read all week. Congrats.
Anyways, this chapter should be much better edited, as I'm wide awake and you know sharper and not at all lazy and stuff.
Also, if you follow me on tumblr, I posted the link to a video that plays that delightful lullaby from this chapter there on my blog...so...if you're curious at all.
HUGE, HUGE, HUGE! Thanks to Satory for correcting me on some of the translation confusion with the lullaby. Thanks for that!
Chapter Forty: Fais Do Do
**The Lieutenant**
He had been expressly forbidden from lingering in her doorway, so he had let himself into her room that night after he finished up with Merle and the storage shed.
She hadn't said anything to him after the group meeting, just walked off, arms wrapped around her ribcage, face solemn.
Tonight she lay with the Little Missy in a pre-emptive strike to ward off the night terrors, which served his purposes better. He could watch over both of them without having to make the rounds between their rooms.
Easing onto the floor in front of her chifferobe, he stuck his long legs out and crossed them at the ankles, eyes on the two forms in the cot as he leaned his head back against the wooden bureau behind him.
He wasn't delusional to have absolutely no fear in the face of his upcoming task. No man was fearless unless he was severely mentally disturbed. But he felt prepared for it. It wasn't just the training, but the things he was doing it for. The people.
Not just his people or Rick's people, but everyone within the convent walls.
They had become more to him than words could describe.
And he? He was just some low class Cajun boy who came from a broken home where he was raised by an old grandmother he worshiped, even while she never seemed to have the time for him or spat out insults at him like he was just some obstacle in her carefree life instead of a grandson.
Sure he talked about her like the sun rose and set on the woman, but he wasn't so uneducated as to be blind to her harsh criticisms of him.
He was just the bastard son of a rapist who never mattered much to anyone.
This place and the people who inhabited it were the closest things he had ever had to family.
Maybe it was the tales he heard from Glenn about the Governor's treatment of women that had him so eager to prevent his women from ever having to deal with the man or maybe it was the genuine fear he heard in Merle's voice when he spoke of the man or the way Michonne seemed prepared to do anything to take the man out or the way the prison was after he and Daryl went there that first day, or any of the above, that had him ready to give himself so willingly for the cause.
Didn't mean he was going to just roll over and die. He'd fight his way tooth and nail to get back to his people. They needed protecting and he needed to protect, it was win-win for all sides.
Reaching for the ring that was still stuck on his pinkie finger, he tugged at it idly, eyeing the cot at his right side.
In his hand the ring slipped off his finger easily and for a moment the Cajun peered through the dark at the golden band that now lay in his palm.
Well, that was one less thing to worry about.
On the cot Annie began to squirm and whimper, shifting in her sleep, at her feet Boo lifted her head and scuttled over the girl to lay at her head.
Watching the cot with cautious eyes, the Lieutenant spied the Old Missy tightening her grip on the girl and knew the whimpering had woken the woman.
Keeping silent in the hopes to go unnoticed, he watched as the woman smoothed Annie's furrowed brow, humming softly to her a very familiar song.
The Cajun smiled softly and slipped the ring into his pants pocket.
Annie kicked out in a panic, the humming not as effective as the real thing, so he quietly began to sing for her benefit, startling the nun.
"C'est la petite poule blanche, qui a pondu dans la branche, un petit coco pour mon bébé fais do do. Dodiché, dodiché, dodiché, dodicho. C'est la petite poule grise, qui a pondu dans l'église, un petit coco pour mon bébé fais do do. Dodiché, dodiché, dodiché, dodicho."
He wasn't sure if it was his singing that always seemed to help the girl, he didn't have that smooth of a voice, but he liked to think it was just his presence. That he scared away the things that haunted Annie in the night.
Carefully arranging herself, the nun moved onto the other side of Annie, patting the bed for him to join them as the girl seemed to still be in a state of discontent with her dreams.
Still singing, the Cajun carefully moved across the dark floor and climbed up onto the small cot, barely able to perch on the edge, but managing to get himself under the wee boo enough to hold her against him.
"C'est la petite poule noire, qui a pondu dans l'armoire, un petit coco pour mon bébé fais do do. Dodiché, dodiché, dodiché, dodicho. C'est la petite poule caille, qui a pondu dans la paille, un petit coco pour mon bébé fais do do. Dodiché, dodiché, dodiché, dodicho. Fais do do, fais do do, dans les bras de ton Papa. Fais do do, fais do do dans les bras de ta Maman."
By the time he sang the song through the third time, Annie's struggles had stilled and she was deep asleep against his chest.
Brushing hair out of Annie's eyes, the Cajun smiled down at her sweet little face. He had never given children any thought before he arrived at the convent, but when Annie showed up, big green eyes with the flecks of gold in them wide and haunted by shadows, he had taken her into his arms without hesitation.
He had never really had a male role model in his life, his Papere having died when he was still young, but he did his best with Annie. The theory being if she was laughing and happy, then he was doing something right with her.
Granted the Old Missy may have been right when she said he spoiled her, but she had a rough time and he didn't think it was necessary to make it rougher on her by denying her a quick game of hide and seek or tag.
Glancing over at the nun, he found her quietly observing him and Annie and flashed her a small grin. "I suppose you're mad at me," he whispered.
"All around? No. I'm disappointed in your decision to go to Woodbury today, tonight I am very mad. You shouldn't be in my room." She stated.
He pressed Annie in closer to him and beamed. "Well, things happen that are out of our control at times." He said.
"I'm very serious, Lieutenant." She stated. "You shouldn't be in here."
"You're the one who invited me onto the bed," he teased.
She quirked a single, stern brow at his cavalier attitude, effectively killing the Lieutenant's smug grin with a mere look and removing all good humour from the situation. Such was the power of the woman over him.
"Do you know what's going to happen to that girl if she loses you?"
"She won't."
"You don't know you'll come back to us."
"You don't know you'll lose me."
Pulling Boo to her, the nun pressed her face into the dog's fur like a lost little girl, falling stubbornly quiet.
Lafayette smiled at her. "I don't know what'll happen," he said. "The future's always unclear, but with so much to come back to, don't you think I have a better chance of giving it my all?"
"Don't feed me tired old clichés, honey." The nun stated firmly. "I'm not twelve and I don't buy them for one minute. You're a selfish, cruel man if you think you can just leave us behind while you go and fight a war you have no part in!" She hissed. "That girl will fall back three steps from where we got her! She will lose another person she loves, someone who won't come back. That will destroy her for life."
"Selfish?" The Cajun repeated, startled that the woman seemed to think that was what he was.
At that moment Annie woke up enough to rub at her eyes and mutter a sleepy, "daddy, I need some water."
Underneath the girl the Cajun soldier tensed, eyes snapping over to the nun at his side.
Ex-nun, he supposed, as he found her eyeing him with a grim shadow hanging over her.
Propping herself up carefully, the Little Missy eyed the Lieutenant with bleary hazel eyes.
"Lieutenant?" She mumbled. "You're not supposed to be in here."
He offered her a somewhat forced grin. "I won't tell if you won't."
Annie beamed and dropped back against his chest, face turning to catch the Old Missy at their side. "Hi," she greeted.
The woman reached out and brushed Annie's long dark hair off her face. "Hello, honey. You need some water?"
"Um-hm, why is the Lieutenant in bed with us? Can he stay?" The little girl asked.
Smiling at how she made him sound like some kind of stray that wandered in from the cold, the Cajun leaned down a pressed a kiss to Annie's temple.
"Of course he can, sweetheart." The woman said. "But just for tonight."
"Forever," Annie argued.
"Just tonight."
"But Sister – Sister Mary Agnes says if a man shares your bed he's your husband," the wee boo protested, propping herself up again to eye the woman beside them with a stern face.
The Lieutenant cupped his hands over Annie's cheeks with a grin. "Quiet, Boo, you're going to spook her."
"Alright, that's it. Get out of my bed, Lieutenant." The woman stated firmly.
The little girl's eyes widened. "I'm sorry," she flopped back on top of the Cajun. "I'm sorry. Don't make him go."
A small smile came to the ex-nun's face and she relented, "well, I suppose just for tonight, he can stay."
Annie beamed. "Okay."
Leaning over, the woman kissed her quickly. "I'll go get you some water."
"Thank you."
As the nun scooted off the foot of the bed in her plain white nightgown, the soldier chuckled as she used the bottom foot of his legs that hung over the edge to push herself up with.
He was entirely too tall for the small cot and she was probably just subtly pointing that out to him.
"Lieutenant?" Annie asked after the woman left the room.
"Hm?"
"Are you going to marry Mother Mena because you're in her bed?"
The Lieutenant smirked. "How are babies made again?"
"Mouth kissing."
"Are you sure it's not hugging?"
"Uh-uh, because then everybody would have a baby."
"Ah, that makes so much sense."
..-~-..
..-~-..
He had gotten up before the sun rose, hoping to catch both Daryl and Carol before the Dixon boy got up out of his nest for the day.
Knocking loudly on the door to the garden shed, he waited patiently for the youngest Dixon to answer the door.
"What the hell are you knocking for?" He demanded, disappearing back inside the shed, leaving the door open for the Cajun.
"Didn't want to interrupt anything," the Lieutenant replied, stepping inside.
Carol smiled shyly up at him from Daryl's nest.
The Lieutenant placed a fake disturbed look on his face. "No, this won't do." He protested loudly. "I can't have you dragging women into my garden shed!"
"What?" Daryl snarled.
"Sorry, rules are rules, no women in the barracks," the Cajun stated. "Get your stuff, both of you and get out."
Climbing to her feet, Carol touched a hand to the wooden rose at the base of her throat. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I didn't think you'd mind."
"Well, I do. Women stay in the dorms and us men get the shed, it's just how things are." He pointed at the door, trying hard to look menacing. "Now get out!"
Daryl narrowed his eyes at the soldier. "What are you up to, Fay?"
"Nothing, just tired of you breaking the rules and regulations of the barracks," he replied.
Gathering up their things, the Cajun folded his arms and tried hard to look stern. He had worked all yesterday with Merle to shift things around in the storage shed enough for them to move two cots out of the dorms into the little building, shoving them together to make a decent sized bed and a nice little home for Daryl and Carol to get some privacy. Their work had nearly been completed when Merle spied Daryl heading towards the storage shed with the leftover cinder blocks and wheel barrel, so they intercepted him until they could finish.
The final touch had been the 'no trespassing' sign that the Cajun had hung on the door for the two to get some privacy and the wall they made with the leftover blocks to give the bed that added privacy from the door.
Now he just had to officially kick Daryl out of the garden shed.
Moving to the door, the Cajun toed it open for the two leaving and sighed heavily. "Try the storage shed," he suggested to Daryl. "I hear it's a nice little set up in there."
Daryl eyed him quietly.
Winking at Carol, the Cajun smiled a little at her. "Nice and private."
The Cajun Dialect
Fais do do – Go to sleep
The Cajun Lullaby (The White Hen?)
(To the best of my translation skills…which are admittedly minimal, and thanks to vague translations on various sites, I loosely translated the lullaby. If anyone can translate this mysterious but lovely song better, please let me know! I'd love to have something halfway correct in translation for this).
It is the small white hen,
which laid on the branch,
a small egg for my baby who sleeps.
Dodiché, dodiché, dodiché, dodicho.
It is the small gray hen,
which laid in the church,
a small egg for my baby who sleeps.
Dodiché, dodiché, dodiché, dodicho.
It is the small black hen,
which laid in the cupboard,
a small egg for my baby who sleeps.
Dodiché, dodiché, dodiché, dodicho.
It is the small quail hen,
which laid in the straw,
a small egg for my baby who sleeps.
Dodiché, dodiché, dodiché, dodicho.
Go to sleep, go to sleep, in the arms of your Dad.
Go to sleep, go to sleep, in the arms of your Mom.