Then I was young and unafraid Who: Arwen (and a few npcs) When: Winter of 1998 Where: The Kavanagh house/a local theater
Arwen was just sliding the chopsticks in place to hold her hair in a bun when the doorbell rang. “I’ve got it, Mum!” she called, hurrying out of her bedroom and down the stairs. She greeted and tipped the delivery man, carefully taking her father’s dry-cleaning. After shutting the door she headed down the hall and to her father’s study. She knocked quickly, and when she heard a distracted sound of approval, she let herself in. Her father was seated behind his desk, working on some sermon or speech.
“Who was at the door?” he asked, without looking up.
“I had some of your suits dry cleaned,” Arwen answered, opening a closet door and placing the hangers at the top. “I had them delivered. Do you want to wear the blue or the black?”
“Do I—hm?” Now Neil Kavanagh looked up, his confusion clear on his face. He seemed to realize in that moment that his daughter was awfully dressed up for a Friday evening. That probably would have been cause enough for concern by itself, but her asking about his attire… Arwen could tell he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. “The… are we going somewhere, dear?”
Arwen had prepared herself for this. She’d been preparing herself for at least a month – longer, really. She’d known as soon as Alice had gotten the part that she was going to have a fight on her hands. She turned to her father, holding her head high and placing her hands on her hips. “Alice’s play starts tonight at the college. It’s a very big play and a very important part, and your entire family is going to support her. I think you should wear the black, maybe with that gold tie Alice got you last Father’s Day.”
Her father scowled and looked back down at his papers. “We’ve spoken about this in length, Arwen. I cannot support this. She’s playing a—a—“
“A prostitute, Daddy. Yes.” Arwen forced herself to say it without blushing. There were some words she just couldn’t wrap her mind around saying in her father’s presence, and that was certainly one of them. “She is. But I also left you with a copy of the play to look over weeks ago. If you had, you would see for yourself that the role of Fantine certainly isn’t glorifying the experience. She’s a woman down on her luck that would do anything for her daughter. You always told me you would do anything for us. And you have to be there. It will break her heart if you’re not.” Her father stared at her. Arwen stared back. She wanted desperately to cave under his glare, to beg her pardons and run off to hide in her room like a little girl, but this was too important. All Alice and Neil Kavanagh did these days was fight, and Alice was coming to the house less and less. Arwen respected her father a great deal and had never in her life disobeyed him, but she could not sit quietly by and watch this happen. After what felt like an eternity, her father looked away. Arwen took that to be the first step towards a victory.
Turning away so that he would perhaps not see or hear the quick exhale of relief at being freed from his gaze, Arwen unzipped the dry-cleaning bag and gently removed her father’s suit. “Mum and I are leaving in an hour,” she said. “We’re going to meet Emilia and Desi at the theater.” Nysa as well, she expected. “You must do what you feel is best,” Arwen went on slowly, draping his suit over one of his chairs and smoothing it with her hands, “and so must I. Please, Daddy. Tonight, be a father first and a man of God second.”
There was a long moment of silence. Arwen could feel his emotions flip-flopping and struggled to make sense of them. When she tentatively raised her eyes to her father’s face she saw a foreign look in his eyes. She had wounded him. “I will always be a father first, Arwen,” he said, voice grave and quiet. Arwen lowered her eyes, shamed for doing that to him. She said nothing. After a moment, she turned to leave. “The gold tie, then,” Neil added, as Arwen reached the door. Arwen paused, her heart caught in her throat. She gave a little nod, and went to fetch his tie.
Alice was amazing that night. She had been nervous, Arwen knew, but it would have taken an empath (or perhaps just a sister) to tell. By the time her twin sang I Dreamed A Dream Arwen was so overcome with emotions that she wept silently for her sister, holding tightly to her father’s hand as she leaned against his shoulder. Arwen had eyes and ears only for her sister at that point, but had she the thought to look around she would have seen there was scarcely a dry eye in the house. The intermission came and their father excused himself to the lobby, and Arwen took the opportunity to reign in her emotions and dry her eyes. When her father returned at her side she did not look at him, simply took his hand again and squeezed it tightly. She couldn’t have said why. Perhaps it was part of why she’d insisted on sitting next to him. If she let go of him, would he leave? It was an irrational thought, but one Arwen was afraid to confront head-on.
In the end the final curtain rose as the cast took the stage again to tumultuous applause, and the tears threatened to come on again as Arwen watched her sister get a standing ovation. Then she realized her father was stepping forward. Neil Kavanagh approached the stage, opening his jacket and removing a single red rose with a shaking hand. There were tears in his eyes, and in Alice’s as she leaned down to accept their father’s offering and kiss his cheek. Arwen wept again then, and watched her father clutch Alice’s hand as if he was afraid to let it go. In that moment Arwen was certain, her twin could melt the hearts of the world if ever she put her mind to it.