Hey there, after the biggest writing block I am finally back, and while I am not 100% happy with this chapter, I decided to just throw it out here and get the whole thing going again.
I am very sorry for the pain in the last chapter - I would like to call it character growth, but at this point, that's still a bit exagerrated, isn't it?
Anyway, back to Laura and Caprica.

Disclaimer: I neither own BSG, nor the title of the chapter (which is property of the one and only Taylor Swift).

August 1804

You weren't mine to lose

Laura Roslin

It was good not to be alone, she found, good to have a house full of people. They were a distraction, on the one hand, but most of all, they all were part of her family in some way or the other. They made her life better, her heart lighter.

She could discuss business with Billy, keep an eye on the property. It made her feel uselful, competent, in control, because she truly knew what she was doing. The decisions were rational, not entagled with feelings - a pumpkin wouldn't feel hurt, and neither would her sheep be offended, most likely. Indeed, she was so engaged that preparations for autumn were already made now, earlier and more thorough than ever before. Everything was planned, the accounts were in order, and when - if -she were to leave for London again, everyone at Caprica would be well-prepared.

Then there were her friends, of course: While some people might find the amount of visitors to be an intrusion, she found it comforting not to be alone, to have the house filled with sounds and laughter. A happy house, lived in ocne again. After all these years, hosting came like second anture to her, nothing she had to aprticularly worry about. No, it was all rather relaxing. They could ride out together or she could simply pass time in the gardens with Isabelle - they always found something to talk about, especially when they had visited the other families close to Caprica Manor. Delightful people, most of them, company just as she liked it. Not so snobbish as most people in the city, but still willing to socialize and dine with each other, so it never got boring. The almost rag-tag group of Isabelle, her two daughters, Kate, Richard, and herself had been invited to several parties and balls, and she had actually decided to attend and dance at most of them. Country parties weren't inferior to town parties at all, she found, no matter what some people argued. No, company was indeed very lively and diverse, especially since most families had visitors themselves.
There wasn't anyone as ... effusive as Mrs Tigh though, thank God, and nobody who reminded her too much of Bill. That would have probably ruined most of the fun.

Of course she still was sometimes quietly wondering how and what hr was doing - and with whom, for the matter - and if she had tried, she easily could have found out. Laura had contacts everywhere, and any of her acquaintances could have given her some information about his whereabouts.
But she didn't ask. She didn't want to know. What she didn't know couldn't hurt her.
And truly, there was no use crying over spilled milk - Bill had made his opinion very clear, so what was she to do?
Sit at home and stare at the wall? That wouldn't do. She ahd far more self-respect than that, and he better notice it!
He would do as he pleased, and she would go on with her life, as much as she hated the way they had left things.

She knew Violet was still in contact with Kara, and of course she couldn't begrudge the girl having a friend, especially since she usually had such a hard time making and keeping up acquaintances. Moreover, Laura wasn't sure how much the youngest Agathon child knew about Bill's and her relationship anyway. If she did, she never asked.
Neither did she talk about Kara's father, but her mother would have probably whacked her with her fan if she had, now that Laura thought about it. Violet only ever mentioned Lee, who apparently had left London to train officers somewhere in the South and somehow with a very important post. For a moment, everything that flashed through Laura's mind were horrible news, thoughts of the young man killed in action, reports about casualties, blood, and pain. A devastated family, a man without sons, a sister without brothers.

When she saw Kate's blanching face, she knew the girl was thinking very much the same.
That Sunday, Laura lit a sixth candle in the church, this one not for remembrance, but for protection.

Please, God, don't take this one, too.
Please, hold a hand over the boy.
Please, don't leave another sister without a brother.

The next day, another candle had joined hers.

It almost surprised her how quickly Kate adapted to her own kind and level of society again, as if she had never been away. To an outsider it might almost appear as if she had never run off, never caused a scandal, never caused Laura weeks and weeks of sleepless nights. Sure, she was very direct, but she had always been like that. Some things seemed to run in the family, and Laura didn't think it was generally a bad character trait.

Despite everything, nobody could deny that Kate was charming. She knew how to greet, when to smile, how to flutter her eyelashes if she wanted something. How to flick her fan and how to incline her head to get the best angle out of her features when she was listening. Her embroidery was if not masterful, then at least pretty, her knowledge of the world enough to be considered accomplished.
Now, with more money at her disposal and the option to only wear half-mourning, she also looked all the part the rich daughter and potential heiress: Dresses of the newest fashion in expensive fabrics, in grey and lavender tones that suited her surprisingly well. Elegant cuts, but no frills - never any frills. Still, there were expensive lace and satin ribbons, ornaments and careful stitches in silvery thread. Maybe Laura was spoiling her a little bit too much, but now that she had her girl back, she couldn't quite care. She had nobody else to spend the money on anyway. Well, other than Richard and Isabelle's children maybe, she acknowledged.

When Laura looked at Kate, she couldn't believe this was the same hopeless, bone-tired exhausted girl that during their first week in Caprica had all at once broken down.
Suddenly, in the comforting calmness of the countryside, everything had been too much, all the heavyness that she had been carrying had threatened to crumble her. It had started slowly, with a couple of comments, and then suddenly it had turned into an avalanche until the girl had finally fully fallen to pieces in front of her. She had been shaking all over, like a battered leaf, suddenly so tiny in Laura's arms. A sobbing mess, teartracks all over her face, while she had quietly poured her heart out. Years worth of secrets, it had seemed.

How she had met her lover.
How he had played into her insecurities as the only natural-born daughter of a rich, influential family.
How he had flattered her, told her he loved her. Had taken months to make her believe it. His acts that in her inexperience she had taken as proof of his affection. The seduction, the promises.
How the Roslin family had refused the match.
How he had convinced her to run away with him, in the hope of money.
How he had made her resent her family when no money had come. The sweet words.
How the sweet words had turned into accusations, but she had been too afraid to leave him. She had been ashamed, and scared, and hadn't seen any light, and any option anywhere. So she had simply resigned.

Laura had cried, too, at this point, the feeling of failure overhelming, even though the girl told her over and over how it hadn't been her fault.
And yet it had been, in some respect, she couldn't help but feel like it had.
It had been her job to protect the girl, and she had failed.

However, she couldn't deny that things were a lot better now that quite a couple of secrets had been spilled and were in the open, and she had the Kate felt the same. They finally settled into somrthing akin to a rountine, a careful balance. She didn't quite now where they were going, but at least there seemed to be a way to go somewhere now, instead of being stuck.

Unfortunately, Laura's craftily constructed parallel world got rudely interrupted one early morning when Isabelle found her outside on one of the meadows during her morning walk. These walks were a habit she had picked up not too long ago, a little time for herself before the house truly woke up - because as much as she loved and needed the company, she sometimes needed time for her thoughts before everything got too busy. Thoughts that always seemed to circle around one special person, so she usually was more than happy to be distracted once she came back inside for breakfast. Laura looked up from the flowers she had just decided to pick when she saw the other woman almost run towards her, obviously elated, so much in fact that she hadn't bothered putting on a bonnett. When she came closer, the dark-haired woman noticed Izzy had been crying, and she frowned and jogged to meet her halfway.

"What's wrong?" she asked, almost out of breath.

Isabelle held up a letter, already almost totally crumbled because she had grabbed it so tightly.

"It's Karl," she almost sobbed, "he wants to get married!"

Good. Not Robert and the army.
These were Laura's first thoughts and she breatehd out in relief. As long as the boys were alive, everything else could be handled. She pulled her friend in a hug.

"What's wrong?" she asked, "what's the problem?"
"He wants to marry that Valerii girl!" Isabelle hiccupped, "Laura, what a scandal! What will the Ton say? What will Violet do? Such a stupid boy, no respect for his family!"