light comma sticks (ex_myth87) wrote in regulation, @ 2008-04-24 19:10:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | dreu desmarais, elodie desmarais |
Who: The Desmarais. All of them.
What: Great-granddaddy Dreu comes by with his new mate during a game of Scrabble.
Where: Mayfair, London
When: 24th April
Rating: PG-13
Status: Closed; Complete
"Do we seriously have to play Scrabble again?" Lo asked with an audible huff, slouching over in the armchair in dramatic exasperation. "We played that two weeks ago, and you promised –"
"Oh, my Lodiebear, we are seriously going to play Scrabble, and I am seriously going to kick your ass," Aurel mocked, throwing his arm over his daughter and bumping playfully into her side. "C'mon, it'll be fun. Maybe Lise will even remember how to spell this time." Lo had to laugh at that, and she looked up to grin at him.
"One time," his twin muttered. "I misspelled 'business' once - and it was twenty years ago, will you ever let it go?"
"He might once you stopped reminding him of that time he gargled with detergent," Parrish pointed out, causing Absolon to look at the blonde man in amusement.
"He's joking, right Aurel – you didn't," the room laughed and Lo nodded fervently. "You are such an idiot."
"Can we play Scene It instead?"
"No! Lise, you already have all the answers memorized."
"Not all of the an-"
"Liar."
"Okay, a few but –"
"We're playing Scrabble, and that's final," Rives told them as he came in with the board and started setting it up on the living room floor. And just like that, it was the fourteen year old who settled things and brought everyone to the wooden floor, crowded around the board like a fire.
They were through the third round when the doorbell ring, and Parrish held up a finger to stop Aurel from jumping up and getting it as he laid out his tiles. "K-H-O-Z," he muttered proudly before looking around the room.
"Sovkhoz?!" Lo exclaimed, looking up at him as he stood. "That's cheating – it's not even a real word."
"Is," he insisted, his voice not even raising as he went to the door to answer it. "It's a farm in the Soviet Republic."
"He has got to be fucking kidding me – sovkhoz… what sort of twelfth century bullshit is… I hate this game."
Dreu rang the doorbell. Isore had offered, but that seemed ridiculous, after finally deciding it was time, after realising that watching them any longer would drive him completely mad. So Dreu rang the doorbell and then stood before the heavy wooden panelling, wondering which member of the family inside would answer. His heart thudded hard against his ribs as he considered the reactions he would get from any of them - all of them. All save one.
The door opened and there, haloed, stood Parrish.
Dreu felt his heart wrench in his chest, felt Isore's palm at the small of his back - offering stability Dreu knew he shouldn't need. He stared - he couldn't help it. Three centuries and then some with little more than a glimpse of his son - then suddenly they were standing face to face.
"Parrish," he said, voice soft. Despite the bond, the love he could still feel there, he was uncertain of the welcome he could expect. He hoped, of course, he hoped for a great deal - it would break his heart all over again if things went badly. And not only for himself, but for Isore who wished so fervently to have a family, to know others.
Of all the people in the world he had expected at the door, Dreu had never crossed his mind. He had given up hoping to see him over a hundred years ago, and he no longer looked for him in new countries, or planned where they would be living according to where he believed his father would be. But after over three hundred years - three hundred years, six new family members, more than fifty countries, the person he missed more than anything was standing before him. Saying his name.
It was like music.
"Dreu?" he answered, and the word was breathless in its guarded uncertainty, his eyes unblinking, not even noticing the man who stood behind the one who had made him. "Dreu," he repeated again, this time more sure, a smile wavering on his lips, his face unsure how to express the emotions he was feeling.
He hadn't forgotten him.
Exhaling slowly, Dreu offered a tentative smile in return, praying to God that he wasn't mistaken. The well of emotion in his stomach, bubbling up through his chest, couldn't be false, though. He reached forward, stepping in just close enough so that he might brush the fringe from Parrish's eyes. Ever untidy - some things, he reflected, even centuries couldn't change. His fingertips trailed gently, hesitantly, over the younger vampire's cheek.
"Parrish," he said again, because what more could he say? There were a million words in his mind, apologies and promises, but there were other things that lay between them and he didn't know how to address them, so he continued to pray, to hope. Swallowing, he finally murmured, "I'm sorry."
"You never came after me," he murmured. It was the only thing he could think to say. "I wanted you to - you never hugged me when I left, never kissed me, never told me that you loved me. You let me go, you couldn't... you wouldn't change for me. You wouldn't try to save us, and you were all I had. I was alone, Dreu - I looked for you at every corner, I waited up for you every night. And you never came, and I made it so easy for you to find me. Three hundred and twelve years," he reminded him. "I made a family, and I wanted you with us. I wanted for you to help me with the rites, to say the same things that Alaire said to me when I had reawakened. But I had to do it by myself."
He swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath, all that he needed to say for the moment said. They would need to speak, of course, but Parrish wasn't going to push him away now. "I love you," he told him firmly.
Every sentence, every word, every syllable hit Dreu with the force of three centuries, the weight of unconditional love, and the guilt he felt intensified tenfold. Stepping forward once more, he pressed a kiss to Parrish's forehead, then pulled him into a hug and breathed. Scent - familiar, welcome, beloved. He couldn't seem to comprehend, really, that it was possible after so long to actually be so close to his son. "I watched," he whispered. "I couldn't let you go, but I wasn't enough for you. I'm still - I'm not, but... I needed - we needed - to... know you now." He was stumbling over the meanings, trying to convey that he knew things wouldn't be easy, that he had made them too difficult, but that he wanted more than anything to try, to seek the forgiveness he didn't deserve.
Had it not been for his mate, beautiful Isore with eyes that could burn or freeze depending on his mood, Dreu wasn't sure he would ever have had the courage to seek his son out. "There are many things I regret," he said, voice dropping, words pressed to Parrish's temple. "Many things I wish I had had the strength to do properly, but I love you so much and I'm sorry, solnyshko. So sorry."
"You have my forgiveness," Parrish answered, keeping his body close to Dreu's. "You would have at any time, you just needed to be here to ask for it."
"We?" He asked after a very long time had passed being held. It had been so long since he had received strength rather than giving it, but it came naturally to submit to Dreu. It was his rightful place in the world. Stepping back slightly, he looked over his master's shoulder and noticed the man that he hadn't registered before. It was almost strange, but at the same time... he was glad that Dreu had moved on. Although how long it took him he didn't know. "Hello," he greeted warmly, but the introduction was broke off by his son's voice.
"Parrish!" It was loud only to their ears, but the call that followed was a shout even to humans. "It's your turn - Lo says she's going to start spelling out obscenities if you don't get back in here, and you know how Lise hates the word 'fu-"
"RIVES!" Melisande shouted, her voice cutting him off. Parrish had to smile shyly through the exchange as he heard his mate get off the floor and come to the door to fetch him. "Sorry, love, but we were waiting and you know how impatient Absolon is - oh, hello." She looked from Parrish to the newcomers in confusion, but then the scent registered. They were the same, vampires, and she relaxed. "Are you friends of Parrish?"
"Dreu," Parrish answered, and her eyes lit up knowingly, in surprise and joy. He had wanted this for so long. "And - I'm sorry, I wasn't able to get his name. This is Melisande, my mate." He smiled and gestured for her to come near, pulling her into his side affectionately.
"Would you like to come in and meet the others? We were just playing Scrabble."
It was so strange.
Isore had stood by quietly, a rarity among rarities this night, but he stepped forward now and smiled. "Hello."
Reaching behind him, Dreu found the younger vampire's hand with his own, linked their fingers, pulled him forward. "Parrish," he murmured, "Melisande, this is Isore." He paused briefly, then said, "My mate." It felt strange, saying as much to his son, but it was the way of things for their kind and he knew, more than anything else, that he was lucky. So very, very lucky.
"Scrabble?" Isore's smile widened and then he laughed softly, holding his free hand out in greet. "It's wonderful to finally meet you - and I, for one, would quite enjoy a game of Scrabble. The last time we played was in 1984 and I won. I believe Dreu's something of a sore loser when it comes to board games."
"I know all your cheats," Dreu said, giving his mate a droll look before letting a smile soften the expression. It was small, but it was there.
"Our Rives always wins," Melisande told them both before stepping forward and embracing them both warmly, Isore first and then Dreu. Parrish stepped forward and did the same to Dreu's new mate as Lise let go, his hold firm and welcoming both. Family.
Parrish nodded and waited for them to enter before leading them into the living room, suddenly filled with nerves. What if Dreu didn't approve? If he found them unsuitable, or too... something. He loved his children, every one, and he was proud of them all in ways that he could never begin to explain, but that was him. He had made them - and those he made had made the others. He kept pace with Dreu and Isore as he walked through the large house, his hand shaking slightly in Melisande's, and he smiled at her as she trailed her fingers over his wrist to ease him.
"We have guests?" Absolon asked, looking up at the newcomers. It took a moment, but he noticed them perking - their nostrils flaring as they smelled their new family members.
"Hey," Lo exclaimed, excited before the introductions even started. "They're like us."
"They are," Parrish told her with a smile, glancing at Dreu out of the corner of his eye. "This is Dreu - my master," it took a split second for everyone in the room's mouths to gape slightly in surprise, but he went on even as Lo interrupted with a breathy 'quoi?' "And his mate, Isure. They're our family, and I expect that you'll welcome them as such."
'So fucking cool,' Absolon muttered, to which Rives nodded and added, 'and weird.'
"Dreu, Isure, this is Aurel, Melisande's twin; Rives, my and Melisande's child; Élodie, Aurel's daughter; and Absolon, Rives' mate." He smiled at them and waited. Lo was the first to move, hopping up and walking over to the newcomers in excitement before hugging them both warmly and kissing their cheeks.
"You must be really old," she told Dreu with a grin, "Like - Jesus old."
"Lo, honestly - could you not right now?"
"Sorry, Parrish," she muttered, and she shrugged apologetically at the new members as they became occupied with greetings from the rest of the family.
"Our Rives always wins," Melisande told them both before stepping forward and embracing them both warmly, Isore first and then Dreu. Parrish stepped forward and did the same to Dreu's new mate as Lise let go, his hold firm and welcoming both. Family.
Parrish nodded and waited for them to enter before leading them into the living room, suddenly filled with nerves. What if Dreu didn't approve? If he found them unsuitable, or too... something. He loved his children, every one, and he was proud of them all in ways that he could never begin to explain, but that was him. He had made them - and those he made had made the others. He kept pace with Dreu and Isore as he walked through the large house, his hand shaking slightly in Melisande's, and he smiled at her as she trailed her fingers over his wrist to ease him.