The Distance of Pride (Song-Fic(ish) Contest 23/06/12)

So, yeah, this is something that sort of, could've been a song-fic and didn't really turn out as I'd wanted. Still, I'm posting it because I think Madam Toe of Saws will appreciate the subject matter. :P All for you, Saw-toe!

The Distance of Pride

?Father?? The soft pitter-patter of tiny, slippered feet wasn?t enough to penetrate the thick wooden door that separated father and daughter, and neither was the terrified whisper that came from the girl?s mouth. ?Father??

Knock, knock, knock.

The girl was little older than five, but the serious expression on her pale, gaunt features spoke of a life of little sunlight or joy. From outwith the large, stately manor, a flash of light escaped from the sky, and with it came the unholy crash of thunder.

?Father!?

The hallway, once again dark, felt all too large to the small child, but the shadows still seemed close enough to reach her. Finally, the door before her swung open, drowning the infant in light.

Then an altogether less friendly shadow passed over her, and she was forced to take a step back just to see the face of her supposed saviour.

?What is it??

?The sky is breaking again,? came the girl's harried whisper. A warble passed through the thin voice, and the man sighed.

?I have no time for your impertinent, childish behaviour. Return to your room at once.?

The girl was flabbergasted; go back to her room? But it had taken so long to get here, hiding from the shadows, the thunder and the lightning all at once! ?I?m scared.? Any fool could see it. Why could the smartest man in her world not admit to witnessing the fear in her eyes, the tremble of her tiny body?

?What you are is?? The man cut himself off, another harsh sigh replacing words that would surely have been harsher, had the child known what they meant. ?Return to your room. I have no time for this.?

And then the door closed, and the five-year-old Galletti heiress was left, once again, in the blackened hallway. Turning her back on what she had imagined could be safety, the girl strayed further down the hardwood corridor and found another source of light. This light provided warmth and was made all the better by the soft, comfortable armchair perched before it. The end-table beside the hearth held only a stack of books inches high, and it was a small, leather-bound tome that drew the child?s attention from her perceived demise and fear.

***

?You should be asleep. The initiation begins early.?

?I know, Father. I just? The storm bothers me.?

Father and daughter, once again, encountered one another in the dark hallway that led from the stairway to the library and Michele?s office.

?All it is, this noise and light, is the world refreshing the air,? the eldest offered, attempting comfort despite a terrible history of providing such.

?Perhaps that?s what fears me,? the girl replied, eyes focussed not on her father, but the doorway at the end of the corridor. ?Perhaps the idea that things around me can change without my input is what is so worrying.?

?You?re referring to the initiation.?

?It was never my dream, Father.?

A silence built between them, threading through the nothingness that separated them both physically and emotionally. Their voices were level and calm, but the tension grew as if they?d been yelling at one another.

?My family has always been party to the House, Cloasse. That, you cannot change. ? As if tired by the conversation, Michele gestured to the library with a heavy-handed movement. ?If you must spend your time there, I implore that you do it usefully.?

?There is no such thing as time wasted when one is in a library, Father,? the teenager replied, managing a weak smile. Their relationship since her return had been strained, but far better than it ever had been prior to her departure.

?I am proud of you,? Michele added, almost uncertain, as his daughter began the short walk from what she considered an uncomfortable conversation to a safe haven of knowledge. ?Of what you?ve become.?

His admission received no reply, but the small smile with which he was graced assured the Galletti patriarch that his daughter did indeed hear him. It would?ve warmed his heart to know that his daughter valued his beliefs, but the truth of the matter was that Cloasse?s House initiation was mere hours away, and binding another generation of his family to the established and well-respected aggregation had been his only goal since the words ?Fletcher Godeaux? had been uttered in relation to his only child. He had to ensure that she remained with him, with the House, and if feeding her underdeveloped ego did that, then who was he to deny himself an easy solution?

No, Michele considered as he returned to his desk, it was never her dream, but they will know her name, and our family will only grow stronger in the eyes of the House.

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