flyrokinesis (flyrokinesis) wrote in theunboundic, @ 2018-08-29 11:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! time: backstory, lukas fox, reagan shrike |
Things that you held high and told yourself were true
Who: Reagan and Luke
What: Saying goodbye.
When: Backdated to Ceddon 14, 1914 (Reagan is 18, Luke 20) ; the day before Rae's departure to Castyll.
Where: Starting at the Shrike's servants' quarters, moving on to beneath the Mimosa Tree on the manor grounds.
"I still don't understand why you did this."
She was pacing.
"For the sake of the Gods, daughter, he's going to be your husband. He deserves a farewell. You'd think I'd invited a random stranger off the streets, the way you're carrying on."
Her mother's voice was chiding, but not unkind; she was well accustomed to her daughter's temper, and did not even look up from where she was finishing folding a garment into a suitcase. If she had, she might have caught the look Reagan shot her, one that wordlessly implied that a random stranger might have been preferable. As it was, she didn't need to see it to know it was happening. "Don't look at me like that, Reagan."
Chastened, the young woman could only make a frustrated huffing sound in response, resuming her frantic stroll from one side of their small living space to the other. Her mother was right, of course... Come tomorrow, she would be departing for Castyll, not to return for two years. Naturally it was only right for her and her husband-to-be (it still made her blanch to consider Luke Fox as such, even after two years of betrothment) to have some time together before then. That didn't make her any less anxious about it, though. It was historic fact that any time they were left alone together things tended to end disastrously, and worse still she could not help but feel the weight of some unspoken expectation that lingered in the way her mother had told her of the arrangement. Gods knew she would not have made them herself.
"We could have said goodbye at the train station," she muttered under her breath, freezing when she heard the unmistakable sound of rapping at their chamber door. Coraline Shrike stopped what she was doing, fixed her only child with a stern look that Reagan had all but inherited from her, and went to get the door. "Behave yourself," she mumbled, and then opened it to greet Luke with a warm, motherly smile. "His Blessings, Lukas."
In direct contrast, Reagan stood some ways inside, eyeing Luke with an expression of mild discomfort (and perhaps a hint of startled-doe apprehension) on her face while her hands fidgeted and twirled the torc ring on her finger. She grumbled an echo of her mothers' salutation, then glanced uncertainly from her mother and then back to Luke. For some reason he appeared taller than usual... broader. She accredited it to an improvement in his posture.