Fic: The Best Dad in the World (4/?)
TITLE: The Best Dad in the World
RATING: G
FANDOMS: The Coldfire Trilogy.
SPOILERS: All three Coldfire books.
NOTES: It's been a while, but finally managed to pull the boys out again. This is potentially the penultimate chapter, possibly maybe :)
_________________________________
The meal had passed without further violence and no bloodshed, which Damien counted as progress. Jen had even managed to be civilised to Bay-Farron, even if she had pushed her chair closer to her father’s as the evening went on.
She was presently curled against his side, her head bobbing as she tried to keep herself awake. He and Bay-Farron were sharing the bottle of wine that the other man had brought, carefully not talking about old times in any way at all.
“Someone should be in bed,” the man murmured, his eyes flicking down to the girl.
The fact she didn’t protest suggested she was already too close to sleep.
Damien nodded. “Stay put,” he said, slowly pushing his chair back and lifting Jen up into his arms. She stirred enough to put her arms around his neck, murmuring in complaint about being moved.
It took a few minutes to divest her of her purple frock and slip her into her nightdress and into her bed, all of which he did without waking her. Tucking the blankets around her, he smiled as she curled up into a kitten-like ball.
“Sleep well,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead.
When he returned, a full glass of wine was awaiting him. He had a feeling he would regret it in the morning. Five years of fatherhood had cut down on any occasions he had to actually indulge, and judging from the look on Bay-Farron’s face, he damn well knew it.
“If I didn’t know better,” Damien said, sliding into his seat, “I’d think you were trying to get me drunk.”
“At ease,” Bay-Farron corrected. “You’ve gone almost completely grey, you know.”
Damien snorted, taking the wine. “Not all of us care that much about our appearances,” he said. Still, he had to admit to himself it had been a while since he had looked at his reflection. It was only when Jen protested about his beard that he would face it.
“You seem to be happy enough,” his guest observed quietly.
Damien looked over his shoulder towards his daughter’s room. “She made it easier,” he said, not caring how soft he looked. “I never expected it, but she’s made everything a lot easier to deal with.”
“Losing your position,” Bay-Farron acknowledged in a murmur.
Damien looked around at him. “Among other things,” he agreed.
Bay-Farron put the bottle down a bit harder than was necessary.
“What have you been doing since we first met?” Damien asked to fill the gaping silence. “Apart from tourism.” His lips twitched. “My best guess is posing for art classes, since your hair is just so pretty and dark and long.”
Bay-Farron snorted. “Vryce, you have developed an inclination towards facetiousness,” he said, sprawling back in his chair with annoying grace. “It’s unbecoming.”
“It’s called living with a five year old girl,” Damien countered with a quiet laugh. “But don’t avoid the question.”
Bay-Farron shrugged, the movement elegant. “You summarised it quite well,” he admitted. “I had a lot of the continent I hadn’t seen due to circumstances and living conditions. I wanted to see what I had been missing.”
“And what had changed?”
Dark eyes gleamed with amusement. “I am nothing if not thorough in investigating the results of an experiment,” he said nonchalantly. He tipped his glass towards Damien. “But I didn’t take on half as much as you clearly have.”
Damien couldn’t help but laugh. “Sometimes, I wondered about that myself,” he said. “It would probably have been easier to trek across the continent bare-handed than dealing with a toddler who refuses to eat certain colours of food.”
“She’s a good child?”
Damien nodded. “Aside from the violently possessive moments,” he said. “When she’s big enough, we’re going to try to get back to the Western continent. My family would never forgive me if I didn’t bring her to meet them.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t gone already,” Bay-Farron admitted. “I thought you would have gone back there as soon as the whole affair was finished. That’s why seeing your face in a fleet of children was such a shock.”
“I probably would have, sooner or later,” Damien said, draining the glass of wine and setting it down. “But then, she was there and she was so small, and God only knows what the mountain paths would be like now.”
Bay-Farron nodded. “A difficult journey for a child.”
“We made a deal that when she finishes her first year of school, we’d go by ship during the main vacation,” Damien said with a rueful smile. “We’ve got six months, and she already packed her bag four times.”
“Ship?” Bay-Farron shot him an amused look. “Are you sure you’re not some strange construct of the Fae? Damien Vryce, willing and ready to go on a ship, when there’s nothing in it for him?”
Damien shrugged with a quiet laugh. “It’ll get us there faster,” he said. “And back again. If she likes it, we can stay, if not, it’s the easiest way to bring her home.”
Bay-Farron studied him for several silent moments. “You think you might settle in the Western autocracy, then?”
“Here or there doesn’t make much difference to me anymore,” Damien said. “As long as Jen’s with me and she’s happy, that’s all I have to worry about.” He felt the smile rise. “I get the feeling she’ll be spoiled rotten when we get there. My mother always did like little girls best.”
“What about the environment?” Bay-Farron asked.
Damien blinked. “What?”
“Is it healthier in the West?” the man said. “What is the climate like? Would it suit her better than here?”
Damien stared at him. Of course, Bay-Farron would never have been to the Western continent. Hardly anyone made the trip unless they had to, but this was a man who chose to learn everything and yet, here he was, knowing nothing about the West.
“You could always come and see for yourself,” he offered, hoping to sound off-hand.
Bay-Farron tilted his head to look at Damien’s glass. “Just how much did you drink, Vryce?” he said, in a disbelieving tone.
“I’m serious,” Damien replied, startled to realise that he was. “Why not come along for the journey? I know I wouldn’t mind company, and once we get there, you can go off and see the West to your heart’s content.”
“Your wildcat might have something to say about that,” Bay-Farron said quietly.
“She might,” Damien agreed, “but in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m the parent, so what I say goes.” He took the wine bottle and refilled his glass. “And if she doesn’t like it, I’ll let her know she has my permission to push you overboard if you annoy her.”
Bay-Farron’s mouth twisted into a genuine smile. “Vryce, never ever try to be a diplomat,” he said, holding out his glass for a refill.
Damien laughed. “I didn’t say I’d let her.”
Bay-Farron looked thoughtful. “Then, that’s something we’ll find out, if it happens,” he said.
They looked at one another across the table.
“You better not let her push me overboard,” Bay-Farron said, warningly.
Damien laughed.
RATING: G
FANDOMS: The Coldfire Trilogy.
SPOILERS: All three Coldfire books.
NOTES: It's been a while, but finally managed to pull the boys out again. This is potentially the penultimate chapter, possibly maybe :)
_________________________________
The meal had passed without further violence and no bloodshed, which Damien counted as progress. Jen had even managed to be civilised to Bay-Farron, even if she had pushed her chair closer to her father’s as the evening went on.
She was presently curled against his side, her head bobbing as she tried to keep herself awake. He and Bay-Farron were sharing the bottle of wine that the other man had brought, carefully not talking about old times in any way at all.
“Someone should be in bed,” the man murmured, his eyes flicking down to the girl.
The fact she didn’t protest suggested she was already too close to sleep.
Damien nodded. “Stay put,” he said, slowly pushing his chair back and lifting Jen up into his arms. She stirred enough to put her arms around his neck, murmuring in complaint about being moved.
It took a few minutes to divest her of her purple frock and slip her into her nightdress and into her bed, all of which he did without waking her. Tucking the blankets around her, he smiled as she curled up into a kitten-like ball.
“Sleep well,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead.
When he returned, a full glass of wine was awaiting him. He had a feeling he would regret it in the morning. Five years of fatherhood had cut down on any occasions he had to actually indulge, and judging from the look on Bay-Farron’s face, he damn well knew it.
“If I didn’t know better,” Damien said, sliding into his seat, “I’d think you were trying to get me drunk.”
“At ease,” Bay-Farron corrected. “You’ve gone almost completely grey, you know.”
Damien snorted, taking the wine. “Not all of us care that much about our appearances,” he said. Still, he had to admit to himself it had been a while since he had looked at his reflection. It was only when Jen protested about his beard that he would face it.
“You seem to be happy enough,” his guest observed quietly.
Damien looked over his shoulder towards his daughter’s room. “She made it easier,” he said, not caring how soft he looked. “I never expected it, but she’s made everything a lot easier to deal with.”
“Losing your position,” Bay-Farron acknowledged in a murmur.
Damien looked around at him. “Among other things,” he agreed.
Bay-Farron put the bottle down a bit harder than was necessary.
“What have you been doing since we first met?” Damien asked to fill the gaping silence. “Apart from tourism.” His lips twitched. “My best guess is posing for art classes, since your hair is just so pretty and dark and long.”
Bay-Farron snorted. “Vryce, you have developed an inclination towards facetiousness,” he said, sprawling back in his chair with annoying grace. “It’s unbecoming.”
“It’s called living with a five year old girl,” Damien countered with a quiet laugh. “But don’t avoid the question.”
Bay-Farron shrugged, the movement elegant. “You summarised it quite well,” he admitted. “I had a lot of the continent I hadn’t seen due to circumstances and living conditions. I wanted to see what I had been missing.”
“And what had changed?”
Dark eyes gleamed with amusement. “I am nothing if not thorough in investigating the results of an experiment,” he said nonchalantly. He tipped his glass towards Damien. “But I didn’t take on half as much as you clearly have.”
Damien couldn’t help but laugh. “Sometimes, I wondered about that myself,” he said. “It would probably have been easier to trek across the continent bare-handed than dealing with a toddler who refuses to eat certain colours of food.”
“She’s a good child?”
Damien nodded. “Aside from the violently possessive moments,” he said. “When she’s big enough, we’re going to try to get back to the Western continent. My family would never forgive me if I didn’t bring her to meet them.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t gone already,” Bay-Farron admitted. “I thought you would have gone back there as soon as the whole affair was finished. That’s why seeing your face in a fleet of children was such a shock.”
“I probably would have, sooner or later,” Damien said, draining the glass of wine and setting it down. “But then, she was there and she was so small, and God only knows what the mountain paths would be like now.”
Bay-Farron nodded. “A difficult journey for a child.”
“We made a deal that when she finishes her first year of school, we’d go by ship during the main vacation,” Damien said with a rueful smile. “We’ve got six months, and she already packed her bag four times.”
“Ship?” Bay-Farron shot him an amused look. “Are you sure you’re not some strange construct of the Fae? Damien Vryce, willing and ready to go on a ship, when there’s nothing in it for him?”
Damien shrugged with a quiet laugh. “It’ll get us there faster,” he said. “And back again. If she likes it, we can stay, if not, it’s the easiest way to bring her home.”
Bay-Farron studied him for several silent moments. “You think you might settle in the Western autocracy, then?”
“Here or there doesn’t make much difference to me anymore,” Damien said. “As long as Jen’s with me and she’s happy, that’s all I have to worry about.” He felt the smile rise. “I get the feeling she’ll be spoiled rotten when we get there. My mother always did like little girls best.”
“What about the environment?” Bay-Farron asked.
Damien blinked. “What?”
“Is it healthier in the West?” the man said. “What is the climate like? Would it suit her better than here?”
Damien stared at him. Of course, Bay-Farron would never have been to the Western continent. Hardly anyone made the trip unless they had to, but this was a man who chose to learn everything and yet, here he was, knowing nothing about the West.
“You could always come and see for yourself,” he offered, hoping to sound off-hand.
Bay-Farron tilted his head to look at Damien’s glass. “Just how much did you drink, Vryce?” he said, in a disbelieving tone.
“I’m serious,” Damien replied, startled to realise that he was. “Why not come along for the journey? I know I wouldn’t mind company, and once we get there, you can go off and see the West to your heart’s content.”
“Your wildcat might have something to say about that,” Bay-Farron said quietly.
“She might,” Damien agreed, “but in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m the parent, so what I say goes.” He took the wine bottle and refilled his glass. “And if she doesn’t like it, I’ll let her know she has my permission to push you overboard if you annoy her.”
Bay-Farron’s mouth twisted into a genuine smile. “Vryce, never ever try to be a diplomat,” he said, holding out his glass for a refill.
Damien laughed. “I didn’t say I’d let her.”
Bay-Farron looked thoughtful. “Then, that’s something we’ll find out, if it happens,” he said.
They looked at one another across the table.
“You better not let her push me overboard,” Bay-Farron said, warningly.
Damien laughed.