Date Undecided
Andraska groaned loudly, frustrated and hardly relieved to be home. Each of his advisers had bombarded him with a thousand things to do, his servant had a dozen letters that needed attention, and he hadn't even been able to sleep properly in days. Spotting his luggage that must have been brought up, he threw his jacket across the pile and stormed around the room, pacing back and forth as he buried his fingers in his eye sockets, furiously rubbing his eyes.”Uuuuugh.”
He moved through the room, stopping by the window and pulling down his face in exasperation. His skin stretched over high cheekbones and mid sigh, a foreign giggle made the nobleman freeze. Ugly expression still on his face, he turned towards the source, his fingertips releasing. Laying in a bassinet he hadn't noticed before was a baby, its blue eyes peering at him in delighted glee. It giggled again, waving its arms and squirmed to silence.
And then, Andráska realized what had happened and the corner of his lip twitched upwards for a moment before resettling, “What? Does my pain amuse you?” he dug at his cheeks again, contorting his features and hid behind his hands, “Uuuuugggghhh.” He was louder this time, emphasizing the exclamation.
Whether it was really the sound he was making or the funny faces he made, Alzorn burst into another fit of giggles, and even Andras had to smile. “Uuugggghhh,” Andras' voice softened this time and he playfully dived towards his nephew, burying his face into the baby's stomach and blowing a raspberry over the soft tummy of the infant. His little feet kicked and he shrieked, gurgling and grinning toothlessly up at his tired uncle.
“Hey,” Andras said gently, inhaling and looking down at his newest and most important responsibility, “Don't laugh at me.”
Andraska looked at the babe's face, and his body loosened of its tension. He felt... peaceful.... sad. He reached out and stroked Alzorn's cheek, scraping his callused finger over the squishy fat and leaned against the bassinet's rim. Then suddenly, “You have your mother's eyes.”
Blue innocence had pooled in the child's orbs, reflecting back all his guilt. He had... Killed Alzorn's mother. A great and familiar ache pulled at his heart. Would the pain ever end? Choking back the darkness, Andras focused on the babe's smile, tentatively tickling his foot. Alzorn squirmed and kicked, shrieking a strange sound and the noble covered his face with his hands, holding his breath and then gasping when he pulled them away, eyes wide and mouth agape in feigned surprise. Alzorn laughed and shook, growing quiet when Andraska did it again.
"Peeka....boooo!" Andraska threw his hands away from his face again, the child's simple amusement made him laugh and tears began to line the rim of his lashes. He felt conflicting emotions - helplessness, guilt, hope... and when he looked in Alzorn's face, he felt so much love, it was like his heart was being cleaved into two; the baby was less than an arc old and he had already fucked up his life beyond repair.
How was he to be an uncle? A father figure?
He sniffled, a few rogue tears racing down his cheeks as he watched his nephew calm down from his delight. Swallowing, he reached out, and with an awkward, if endearing gentleness, Andras picked up the baby, remembering just as he was instructed and made sure to support the child's head. "I don't really know how to do this," he whispered, confiding in the infant and as if scared he would be the cause, more tears ran down his face, as he turned and gently began to sway, "Please don't die.... I already love you too much."
[/align]He moved through the room, stopping by the window and pulling down his face in exasperation. His skin stretched over high cheekbones and mid sigh, a foreign giggle made the nobleman freeze. Ugly expression still on his face, he turned towards the source, his fingertips releasing. Laying in a bassinet he hadn't noticed before was a baby, its blue eyes peering at him in delighted glee. It giggled again, waving its arms and squirmed to silence.
And then, Andráska realized what had happened and the corner of his lip twitched upwards for a moment before resettling, “What? Does my pain amuse you?” he dug at his cheeks again, contorting his features and hid behind his hands, “Uuuuugggghhh.” He was louder this time, emphasizing the exclamation.
Whether it was really the sound he was making or the funny faces he made, Alzorn burst into another fit of giggles, and even Andras had to smile. “Uuugggghhh,” Andras' voice softened this time and he playfully dived towards his nephew, burying his face into the baby's stomach and blowing a raspberry over the soft tummy of the infant. His little feet kicked and he shrieked, gurgling and grinning toothlessly up at his tired uncle.
“Hey,” Andras said gently, inhaling and looking down at his newest and most important responsibility, “Don't laugh at me.”
Andraska looked at the babe's face, and his body loosened of its tension. He felt... peaceful.... sad. He reached out and stroked Alzorn's cheek, scraping his callused finger over the squishy fat and leaned against the bassinet's rim. Then suddenly, “You have your mother's eyes.”
Blue innocence had pooled in the child's orbs, reflecting back all his guilt. He had... Killed Alzorn's mother. A great and familiar ache pulled at his heart. Would the pain ever end? Choking back the darkness, Andras focused on the babe's smile, tentatively tickling his foot. Alzorn squirmed and kicked, shrieking a strange sound and the noble covered his face with his hands, holding his breath and then gasping when he pulled them away, eyes wide and mouth agape in feigned surprise. Alzorn laughed and shook, growing quiet when Andraska did it again.
"Peeka....boooo!" Andraska threw his hands away from his face again, the child's simple amusement made him laugh and tears began to line the rim of his lashes. He felt conflicting emotions - helplessness, guilt, hope... and when he looked in Alzorn's face, he felt so much love, it was like his heart was being cleaved into two; the baby was less than an arc old and he had already fucked up his life beyond repair.
How was he to be an uncle? A father figure?
He sniffled, a few rogue tears racing down his cheeks as he watched his nephew calm down from his delight. Swallowing, he reached out, and with an awkward, if endearing gentleness, Andras picked up the baby, remembering just as he was instructed and made sure to support the child's head. "I don't really know how to do this," he whispered, confiding in the infant and as if scared he would be the cause, more tears ran down his face, as he turned and gently began to sway, "Please don't die.... I already love you too much."