Topic: Moving On

Natalya Bristol

Date: 2015-08-04 21:59 EST
Wrapping up a person's life is never as simple as it first seems. There are papers to sign, the funeral to arrange, people to contact. There are visits to solicitors, visits from the bereaved friends, companies to contact, contracts to terminate. And all this has to be done in the first tight grip of grief, in those days when all you really want is to be left alone to mourn and remember. It helps to have someone with you who can do it all without much input. Often it is a spouse ....and for Ian, that help came not only from his wife, but their friends, as well.

Rhys and Nat had arrived a day too late to be there for him when his father had passed on, but since their arrival, they had been invaluable. Nat had taken over dealing with solicitors, knowing how inheritance worked when there was property and a fortune involved; Rhys had helped to contact the friends who needed to know, and had apparently enjoyed intimidating various companies who had tried to insist on talking to Ian into backing off for good. They had been there as a buffer between the bereaved son and the other mourners at the funeral and wake, shameless in making use of both their own daughter and Morgan to distract well-wishers before conversations could become too morose. And now, with the last of the mourners gone home, they remained, keeping company with the bereaved little family who had become good friends.

The staff had stayed on to tidy up after the wake, each one as bereaved as the son who had finally come home, even if it was only for a little while. As Aurelia spoke quietly with the housekeeper, Nat watched Ian. She couldn't help but be worried. He was always a quiet man, but he seemed a little too quiet today. Perhaps everything had been just a little bit too much. She glanced up as Aurelia passed her, sharing a smile with the other woman. Maybe all they needed was a little time.

Time heals all wounds, or so the saying goes. Rhys was proof of that, though sometimes wounds didn't stay healed. They still hurt from time to time, but as time went on, the grief would fade and be replaced by something else - remembrance. That's all anyone wanted when their time was done, wasn't it' To be remembered. Rhys left Ian to his thoughts, for now, choosing to approach Aurelia instead and through her, find out how the man was dealing with his loss. He'd known Aurelia longer, after all, and if not for her, he wasn't sure he'd have come to know Ian at all.

"How is he?" Rhys asked once she was done with the housekeeper. Things were winding down now, quiet - maybe too quiet.

The witch paused, her eyes on her husband for a long moment before she looked to Rhys. She was exhausted; eight days of looking after Ian and Morgan in the wake of that loss, of organizing everything - even with help - had depleted her reserves of energy. "He is ..." She sighed softly, looking to Rhys with an expression that said far more than words ever could. "I do not know. In pain, and there is nothing I can do but be present. I do not know how to help him, Rhys."

But all that was over now because Rhys and Nat were there - they had come to their rescue, so to speak. They had come to help their friends through a difficult time, not just in an emotionally supportive way, but to help in whatever way they were needed. After all, they had been there for them - or at least, Aurelia had, when Rhys had needed her help at least once before. At a time when he'd felt lost and alone, she'd helped him get through it. Even though she might have thought nothing of it, it had meant the world to him. He smiled softly, sympathetically, and reached for her hand, if only for a moment, to let her know they weren't alone in this - that they'd never be alone again. "You just be there for him, Aurelia. That's all you can do. It just takes time. That's all."

"I do not think even Avalon will help this time," she said softly. As Rhys took her hand, she surprised herself, turning to wrap her arms around her friend in a hug she'd needed for a while now - not a hug where she was the one giving the support, protecting the wounded, but one where she was the wounded in need of a little comfort. "Thank you for coming. We couldn't have done all this without you."

"We aren't leaving, you know," he told her as he wrapped his arms around her to return that hug. There had been a time when he might have been startled by such an outpouring of affection and an obvious need for a little comfort, but that time had passed. He had once been an angel, after all, and some part of him seemed to remember that, even if he wasn't wholly aware of it. "We're going to stay for a little while yet to help you both through this." After all, it wasn't like they had jobs they needed to go back to. Avalon could wait a while longer.

"Thank you." For the first time, there was a hint of of a waver in Aurelia's usually calm tone, and she tightened her grip for just a moment before letting go. "I should go to him, I suppose. It isn't good to leave him with his thoughts for too long, especially today."

"You should both go relax," Rhys said as she pulled away from him, seeing how tired she looked, how thoroughly draining the last week must have been. Ian, too, though his exhaustion seemed more emotional than physical. "We can take care of Morgan while you get some rest, and then we can meet up for dinner later." Thankfully, there was a staff who would take care of the cooking, unless Rhys insisted on ordering out. Were there any good pizzerias in Oxford" If there were, he'd be the one to find them.

"Are you sure?" Despite everything, Aurelia was acutely aware that now she was the lady of this house, and she should have been the one looking after her guests, not the other way around. At the same time, the thought of a little quiet time with just Ian was almost too tempting to pass up without question.

"Of course, I'm sure ....we're sure," he corrected himself. He didn't have to ask Nat for confirmation when they'd already discussed it earlier. "It's the least we can do," he assured her. Whether they were guests or not, they hadn't come all this way just to attend a wake and funeral and then be on their merry way home again. They had come to help their friends in whatever way they could, in whatever way they needed.

"You are a good friend, Rhys Bristol." Her eyes traveled to the conservatory, where Nat had both baby girls lying on a play mat and was playing peek-a-boo with them. A small smile touched the witch's face. "Both of you are very good friends." She hugged him once more. "We won't be more than a few hours."

Rhys beamed a smile back at her, genuinely happy to help. "Take your time. We've got this," he told her, returning that hug once again before shooing her off to gather her husband and go get some rest. "Go on. Shoo. She'll survive for a few hours without you."

"Milk is in the fridge," she told him with a low chuckle, moving away as he shoo'd her.

As Aurelia went to Ian's side, to cajole him into coming with her for a little while, Natalya looked up, fingertips tickling two sets of bare baby feet absentmindedly. Her eyes found Rhys. "How are they doing?" she asked him.

If they could handle one small child, they could handle two. There were two of them, after all, to share the job duties. It wasn't until after Aurelia dragged Ian away that he let his guard down, frowning in concern at Nat's question. "Exhausted," he replied as he joined the ladies on the blanket. "I think they think they need to entertain us or something. I tried to explain to her that we're here to help."

"Well, they are very ....proper," Nat shrugged. It wasn't the best word to describe Ian and Aurelia, but it fitted for now. "Perhaps worrying about everyone else takes their minds off worrying about themselves. I do not know. But we can handle Morgan, can't we?" This was addressed to Ana, who was busily gnawing on Morgan's hand. "No, malyutka, you have teeth coming, that is not nice." Smiling, she removed one baby's hand from the other's mouth.

Natalya Bristol

Date: 2015-08-04 21:59 EST
"If we can handle Ana, we can handle Morgan. Besides, it's good practice for the future," he pointed out, reaching over to tickle baby feet. "You don't think they'll decide to stay in England, do you?" he asked, alluding to some of his own personal concerns. They had come to be friends, and he wanted it to stay that way, especially now that they had daughters nearly the same age.

"No, I do not think they will," she said thoughtfully, looking around the bright conservatory. "There are too many memories here, and Ian was estranged from his father for a long time. Those memories will be strongest." A faintly mischievous smile touched her face. "Do you think now is a good time for me to admit to buying a house for them across the street from us?"

Rhys chuckled. "I think maybe you should wait a day or two before springing that on them. They've got enough to deal with right now," he replied, though he agreed he wanted them closer. Ironically, for a man who had once felt lost and alone, he had more friends now than he knew what to do with. He wasn't quite sure how the other couple would react to Nat's kind of generosity just yet, but money really was no object. Even Rhys had felt weird about it in the beginning, but it was somehow liberating not to have to worry about how he was going to pay his bills anymore - and being able to help family and friends and even those they didn't know was a bonus.

"Well, they don't need to worry about having somewhere to live, anyway," Nat laughed quietly. "The inheritance should be sorted out within a couple of days, and they will have to decide what to do with this place, but Ian won't have to return to teaching." Which was just as well; she didn't know the quiet man as well as she would like, not yet, but she did know he silently loathed lecture halls half full of students who were only there for the credits.

"That's true, so there's nothing keeping them where they are, and Ian will have all the time he needs to work on his ....what is he working on anyway' A book about Arthur or something?" he asked curiously. He knew the man was a scholar and was working on some scholarly paper or other, but he wasn't quite sure what it all entailed. "He's not writing about Avalon, is he?"

Nat raised a brow above her smile. "Not the real Avalon," she told her husband fondly. "If he is writing about Avalon, it will be presented as conjecture. As a collection of the written evidence that is everywhere in this world, that Avalon did exist once. Ian is bound to Avalon, as we all are. He would not endanger it."

"No, of course not," Rhys replied, though he still wasn't quite sure what the man was writing about precisely. "Maybe I should read his books. I might even learn something," he said, though he wasn't sure what he could learn about Avalon that he didn't know already. He still felt a little envious that Ian and Aurelia had actually met Arthur and Morgaine and Viviane and all the rest, especially Arthur, who was one of Rhys' personal heroes. He knew he shouldn't complain, though - it was in part because of Ian and Aurelia that Avalon still existed in the first place.

"Maybe you should ask him about it," Nat suggested with a teasing smile, leaning over to kiss him affectionately. "And do not forget, before we go back to New York, we have to collect our dogs." Guaranteed to change Rhys' mood like flipping a switch was mentioning Sasha and Cody, the two puppies from Sir Lionel's litter that had been handed to them without anyone getting a chance to say no. Not that Rhys had even considered saying no, that is.

"Oh, right!" he exclaimed with a chuckle and a big cheesy grin on his face. As if they weren't busy enough with a small child, they had agreed - no, they had jumped at the chance to adopt the puppies - or at least, Rhys had. He'd never had a pet growing up, and he just hadn't been able to resist the invitation. Not that they'd been given much choice. "Do you think Ian and Aurelia will want to come with us?" he asked. As far as he was concerned, he'd take advantage of any excuse to visit Avalon, but he thought Ian and Aurelia might find a little peace and healing there during their time of grief.

Nat sobered, knowing that what she was about to say might well make her husband worry more than he already was. "I think that, of them both, Aurelia needs Avalon," she said quietly. "Ian is grieving, and it is happening naturally. He will be fine, in time. Aurelia ....I think she needs a mother's touch."

"A mother's touch?" Rhys echoed, not quite understanding what she meant by that. Oh, he understood the reference well enough. Both of them had lost their mothers long ago, and the Lady of Avalon had become a sort of maternal figure in both their lives, but what he didn't understand was why Aurelia was in need of it so much when Ian was the one who'd just lost his father.

"Dusha moya, who teaches us to love?" she asked him softly, reaching over to touch his cheek. "Who is our first love, the one who shows us what love is supposed to be? Our mothers. I never knew my own, but the Lady taught me what I never learned. Aurelia is a mother herself, but she has no real understanding of how to let go and let someone else protect her and comfort her. Have you seen any cracks in her demeanor over the past days" Any sign that she is not completely in control?"

Rhys took that in a minute, as if trying to wrap his head about what she was asking him. "Yes and no," he replied. "I mean, she's been amazing the way she's taken charge of everything, but she's tired, and it's not just a physical thing, I think. It-it goes deeper than that." But how much deeper or why he couldn't quite figure out or explain.

"Her mother was a personification of evil," Nat reminded him gently. "She was raised by a woman who made it perfectly clear that she was not family. There is the grief of a lifetime in our friend, Rhys, and she doesn't know how to let it go. Seeing the man she loves in pain is making it harder for her. She needs someone to teach her that pain is not an enemy. I think the Lady is the only one who can."

Rhys thought about that a minute, but the only way he could relate was by remembering the look on his father's face when he'd been possessed by a demon or of the evil that had permeated Aurelia when the demon part of her had taken control. Either of them would have killed him or far worse without thought or regret, but it hadn't really been them doing it, not really. What if it had been? He shuddered at the memory of it, as old as that memory was. He'd never forget what had happened to his parents, though he knew they were at peace now. "I guess. I just wish I could help somehow."

"You do help," she told him with a fond smile. "You had us all up and out of bed, and halfway through Avalon, before you explained to me just why it was so important that we come to England. Just being here, being the shoulder that she can lean on, while she encourages everyone else to lean on her ....that is helping. And you convinced her just now to concentrate on one person, to leave everyone else to us. That, I think, is something very new to both of them, and it would not have happened if they did not trust you, trust us, as deeply as we trust them."

"Maybe," he admitted with an uncertain frown. He had never really been able to admit or even realize when he was being actually useful. Maybe it was a forgotten remnant of his angelic past or maybe it was just a failing of his own, but either way, he didn't seem convinced that he was helping.

"Definitely," she told him, leaning close to kiss him once again. "Of course, if you're so convinced that being here does absolutely nothing and you're only in the way, we could leave tonight," she added, daring him to say so. Sometimes Rhys didn't need a prod; he needed an anvil.

Natalya Bristol

Date: 2015-08-04 22:00 EST
"That's not what I meant," he said, furrowing his brows at her, annoyed for a moment before realizing she had just been trying to make a point. "It just ....never feels like enough, you know?" But Ian and Aurelia had their own lives to live, just as Rhys and Nat had theirs.

"It does not matter if it feels enough to you, or to me," his wife pointed out, glad he'd picked up on what she'd been getting at. "This is what friends do. It's what family does. We are here because we want to be, because we want to help. They haven't had to ask us for anything, because we know what they need, be it time, or practical help. Rhys, if they did not want us here, they would say so. You may not see any tangible evidence of the good you are doing, but when you need them, they will be there, just as we are here now for them. What goes around, comes around."

"Well, yeah, I guess," he replied, unable to argue with that. Even in his mid-thirties, he could still be such a child sometimes. It was a trait that could be as equally annoying as endearing at times. He remembered all the times he and Adam had taken care of each other, and in some ways still did, and yet his circle of friends had expanded to include Jason and Beth and Ian and Aurelia, and all the people they knew in Avalon, too. "Okay, so we stay a few more days and then we take them to Avalon," he said, reviewing the plan.

She nodded, bending to lift Morgan up into her arms. Now Ana was a year old, Nat missed the cuddles that had been freely available when her own daughter had been a wobbly sleeping machine, and was taking every opportunity to cuddle with Morgan because of that fact. "I think so," she agreed with a faint smile. "And if I get my timing right, from there to New York."

Rhys laid down on the blanket beside Ana and rolled onto his side to gather a pile of blocks and start building a small tower for her to help build and knock down at her leisure. It was a favorite game of theirs, it seemed, as they carefully pilled the blocks one atop the other before it teetered precariously between them. "With two dogs in tow," he added.

Nat rolled her eyes, chuckling as Ana rolled herself up onto her backside to grab at the blocks with Rhys. "Yes, with two dogs," she sighed in amusement. "And I will get my revenge on Lionel for dropping that on me. My only consolation is that Zach is also dealing with an over-excited Bristol and her new fur babies."

"Yeah, but they need to learn how to take care of a dog before they can learn to take care of a child," Rhys said, as he placed one block atop another. As for himself, he already knew how to do that, and the dogs were merely meant to fulfill a childhood dream and to make their home complete.

"Well, we owe Ana a cat when she's older," Nat chuckled. "Or maybe Boots was mine, in that vision my brother showed me." Shifting to lean back against the nearest chair, she grinned as Ana flailed one chubby little fist straight at the tower of blocks Rhys was building for her.

"Boots?" he asked, arching a curious brow at her as Ana knocked down the tower of blocks before she'd given it much of a chance to be built, but all Rhys did was chuckle and patiently start all over again, this time handing her the blocks so she could build it herself. He didn't recall any mention of a cat when she'd shared that vision with him.

"Ah, when you were trying to convince our children that they had forgotten to do something when they came in, Ana declared boots loudly, and a cat came to her," Nat smiled. "To which you replied, Not you, Boots. I must therefore assume that the cat was called Boots."

"Uh ..." Rhys murmured with a confused look on his face. Whenever they talked about this things, he always seemed to get confused. It was hard imagining someone else's vision in his head, though he'd had a few of his own. "Okay, so we get a cat named Boots at some point. That's after we have Micah, right?" he asked, though all of this was conjecture because vision or not, precognition or not, the future was not concrete - it could still be changed by the choices they made.

"I believe so," she nodded. "After Micah, probably before Dylan. And whoever else might be coming after him." She laughed a little, reaching out to touch his cheek fondly. "I am teasing you, milaya. We have dogs, we do not need a cat."

"What do you mean you're teasing me?" he asked, pouting a little now. He thought he was getting a glimpse into a possible future addition to their family only to learn she was just teasing. "It's not about need, Nat. We don't need anything," he pointed out, very carefully placing a block atop a tower of precariously and swaying blocks. "It's about what we want our lives to be, what we want our family to be."

"There was a cat, but no dogs," she told him with a warm smile. "We will see. He had a point to make, and he taught me a lot that night. I would duck if I was you." This was added as an absent warning - Ana had got hold of Morgan's stuffed squirrel and was taking aim for the blocks again.

"So, we're already changing things," he mused aloud, not that that was a bad thing necessarily. His mind had wandered again as he considered that and he ducked, just missing the avalanche of blocks aimed for his head. "You, little girl, are dangerous," he said, reaching over to tweak Ana's nose playfully.

The grin he got back was utterly unrepentant, proudly displaying the two bottom front teeth that had made an appearance over the last couple of months. "Dada," was the giggled answer from his daughter as Ana pushed the blocks aside and crawled over on top of Rhys.

"Change is not always a bad thing, milaya," Nat said, rocking Morgan on her shoulder as she watched father and daughter at play. "Our lives will be very boring if we are allowed to predict every little thing that will happen."

"I suppose that's true," Rhys agreed, rolling onto his back as Ana crawled on top of him. "All I really wanted to know is if we'd have children." This admission likely came as no surprise to Nat. The idea of having a family had always been very important to Rhys, in part because his own had been taken from his so early on, but there were other reasons he'd been reluctant to share.

"Heaven, Hell, and Avalon promised us three children," she reminded him. "I doubt they could all be wrong about something like that. Could they?" Next to her ear, Morgan started to fuss, making her wince a little. "One thing I do not miss ....that cry."

"I'd rather not think about Hell," he replied, setting Ana down on the blanket and moving to his feet, as he reached out for the baby. "Here, give her to me," he said, priding himself on the fact that he had "the touch", whatever that was. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew it was something some people had with babies that they instinctively sensed safety and almost immediately calmed down - unless they wanted food or a diaper change. No amount of cuddling would soothe them then.

Nat could have been jealous, if she wasn't so practical. Rhys having "the touch" meant that he'd been the one most often pacing with Ana when she went through her colicky phase, that he was the one who got to spend hours trying to convince their little girl to go to sleep. Whereas Nat got the cheerful cuddles and full wakefulness without feeling resentful of the sleep she'd lost out on. It all worked out in the end. She handed Morgan over to her husband without a second thought, reaching out to capture Ana and tickle her into the infectious giggles that could fill a room. "They did so well today," she complimented both baby girls fondly. "So many strangers, and they didn't throw up on anyone even once."

Natalya Bristol

Date: 2015-08-04 22:01 EST
He hadn't chosen one child over the other - everyone who knew him knew Ana was the apple of her father's eye - but Morgan was simply the one who needed coddling at that moment and he was more than happy to do it. He propped the tiny baby on his shoulder, eager to hold a newborn again, his hand rubbling over her back, soft and soothing. He chuckled a little with a soft rumble in his chest. "They were probably saving that for us."

"Don't we feel lucky?" Nat laughed, hugging the giggling Ana on her lap. She glanced to the clock. "It is about time for their dinner, though. What are we having for the adults later on?" Heaving herself up onto her feet, she balanced Ana on her lap, letting the little girl hold onto handfuls of her mother's curly hair.

"Uh," he replied uncertainly. He hadn't thought that far ahead, and as far as he knew, the estate's staff had been given the day off. "I was thinking about pizza, but I don't suppose there are any pizzerias around here," he said with a disappointed frown. "I suppose I could whip something up," he added, though he'd have to have a look at the kitchen before he knew what that would be.

"Or we could see if there are any take out menus in the kitchen, and see who delivers," Nat suggested with a low chuckle. She beckoned to him. "Come on, milaya, or I won't let you choose which baby you're feeding."

"I think she already chose me," Rhys countered with a grin, the suddenly quiet Morgan proof of his baby-soothing skills. Maybe it was just the fact that he'd once been an angel, but though Morgan had calmed down, it was only a matter of time before the tiny girl demanded to be fed. Thankfully, Aurelia had pre-filled a number of bottles, or they might have had to wake her.

"You're so smug," Nat laughed, leaning down to pinch his cheek affectionately. "Isn't he, Ana" Such a smug Papa." Ana's flailing hand patted Rhys on the head a few times before her mother straightened up again, crooking her finger. "If you are feeding the littlest one, then you are heating her bottle."

Rhys chuckled at both the pinch and the pat, as he moved to his feet to join them. "Fair enough. I'll even change her diaper," he volunteered. He looked to the baby on his shoulder with a soft smile. "Isn't that right, Morgansies" Uncle Rhys and Auntie Nat will take care of you, so your Mummy and Dad can get some rest."

All he got in answer to his reassurances was a gurgle and one flailing hand catching hold of his nose, which in turn made Ana, who was watching over Nat's shoulder, laugh uproariously as they made their way through the various rooms to the kitchen. As lovely as the house was, it was far too big for Ian and Aurelia; Natalya couldn't imagine what it must have been like for Ian's father, living alone in the empty rooms and hallways of the place. "Wouldn't this make a beautiful hotel?" she commented to Rhys mildly, sounding him out with the thought that had come to mind.

"Mmm," he murmured, not particularly fond of big old houses - they reminded him too much of old fashioned ghost hunts. He wasn't sure if this one was haunted or not, and he didn't have his trusty EMF meter with him to check. "I think that's up to Ian and Aurelia," he said, presuming it was a little too soon to suggest such a thing to the grieving couple.

"Of course it is," she nodded, mother and daughter making faces at him as she backed through the door into the kitchen. "But it is an idea." She sat Ana on the counter, pinning her there with one hand as the other opened up the fridge. "How do you think they are doing up there?"

"I don't hear any bedsprings squeaking, so I'd say they're probably asleep," he said with a smirk as he perused the fridge for a pre-made bottle for their littlest charge. Of course, she hadn't asked what they were doing, but Rhys couldn't help but point out the obvious. He hadn't heard any screams or groans either, which further proved his point.

Nat laughed, rolling her eyes as she handed Ana a little pot of the handmade mush the cook had been only too happy to make up out of the leftovers from yesterday's dinner. As chubby little fingers tried and failed to get the lid off, Nat reached over to squeeze Rhys' hand. "I love you, you know."

Rhys arched a curious brow at his sentimentally-inclined wife. "What's that for" Besides the obvious?" he asked, wondering what he'd done to deserve it, other than be his usual charming self. He found a bottle and went to the sink to warm it up. He'd learned the hard way that the microwave was not a good idea. Shortcuts in general weren't a good idea when it came to babies.

She paused, gently tweaking Ana's nose before lifting the little girl up and moving to sit at the table. No high chair, which wasn't ideal, but she could work around it. Her eyes found Rhys'. "I ....I'd never been to a funeral before today," she admitted to him quietly. "I didn't go to Micah's, and we never held one for my father. I-I don't want to ....to go to your funeral, Rhys."

That got his attention. Why was she worrying about him dying" He'd technically already died once, but he wasn't planning on repeating that performance any time soon. He turned to face her while the bottle was warming, a concerned frown on his face. "Nat, why are you worrying about that' I'm not planning on dying for a very long time."

Nat smiled gently, tucking a towel around Ana before opening the little pot and allowing the one year old to get at the contents with her little plastic spoon. "It isn't that I'm worrying about it," she tried to explain to Rhys. "It's more that ....Seeing Ian today, during the last moments that society allows him to acknowledge that his father is still a force in the world ..." She bit her lip, wondering quite how to explain this. "There are not many things that I absolutely refuse to do, or to try. But I realized today that I do not want to go to your funeral, even though I may have to, many years from now. I want to go with you, not to be left behind."

"Oh," Rhys replied, understanding at last, but unable to stop himself attempting to lighten the mood just a little with a wisecrack. "You mean like Butch and Sundance or ....Who were those two chicks who drive off the cliff in a T-Bird?" He snapped his fingers as he tried to remember the name of the movie. To some, the comparison might seem thoughtless, but it was just Rhys' way of trying to make a point.

Her brow rose, the smile coming easily as she followed his train of thought. It wasn't a morbid moment, or even a particularly heavy one. She'd just wanted him to know that she had come to that decision. "Thelma and Louise?"

"That's it!" he exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically. He would have offered more comfort than that, but he had a fussing baby in his arms who was working up to a scream if she didn't get fed soon, and Nat was busy with Ana. "I'm not ready to drive off the cliff yet, Nat," he assured her with a smile that seemed to understand what she was trying to say. "We've got a lotta years ahead of us, baby. I'm a long way from giving up."

"If you were to try, I would have to take your cars away from you," she teased him fondly, her attention mostly on keeping their daughter from covering everything within a five meter area in her dinner. "And you might never forgive me for that." Laughing, she seemed to relax, glad to have got that off her chest, however odd it might have seemed.

"No question about that," he said, with a faint smile as he turned his back to her to fetch the bottle from the sink, juggling the baby upon his shoulder to test the bottle's temperature. He didn't like to think about death very much, especially not about those he loved. He'd lost too many people, too many friends, too many loved ones. He refused to think about losing Nat, though he knew they weren't going to live forever.

Natalya Bristol

Date: 2015-08-04 22:02 EST
"Because a Papa without his cars is a grumpy old man, isn't he, malyutka"" Nat asked the dribbling baby girl on her knee, rewarded with a grin and a very ....stewey ....kiss on her cheek. "And grumpy old men are not any fun. Thank you, darling. You should do my make up every day."

"Grumpy, maybe," Rhys agreed. "But I'm not that old yet." He took a seat at the table and shifted little Morgan so that she was cradled in one arm while he offered her the bottle. "Am I?" he asked further, looking a little uncertain of that question. He was in his mid-thirties now and just getting started on raising a family. He'd be in his fifties when Ana graduated from high school, and they still had at least two children promised to them.

Wiping her cheek on Ana's towel, Nat laughed, shaking her head. "Of course you are not old," she assured him. "An old man would definitely have put his back out by now with all the practicing we do." She laughed - a particularly filthy laugh that only Rhys ever got to hear, which was probably just as well. If she ever let it loose in public, she'd attract hopeful men by the score.

He seemed just a little distracted suddenly by her mention first of death and then of aging, but he couldn't help but smile at the sound of her laughter, which he could only describe as bawdy. "I'm closing in on the big 4-0, Nat. I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"You, my darling, are going to be a silver fox," she informed him with a tender smile. "And I intend to be your vixen even when my bosom requires a forklift truck to get it into my bra every morning." Nat had definitely been spending too much time with Gina and Bethany - a comment like that could only have come from one of those two.

He scowled at the word silver, though he would take silver hair over no hair. So far, he hadn't noticed any changes, but he knew it was only a matter of time. No one stayed young forever, after all. "Do you think we'd still age if we were in Avalon?" he asked curiously, making no comment on her bustline, which he just couldn't imagine going south.

Nat's smile was understanding of his reluctance to grow old. "Yes, I do," she told him softly. "There are only two people in Avalon who do not age. One, because of an oath she swore before the Grail, and the other, because she is the Lady. And even she will, eventually, give in to age. It is her power that keeps her physically young, not the isle itself. If Avalon did keep people young, then we would have met Arthur, and Morgaine, and everyone else from the myths and legends."

And like the child that resided inside him, despite his age as counted in years, Rhys pouted. "But I don't want to get old," he whined, turning his glance to the tiny infant in his arms whose life had just begun. He didn't want to be a child again either, but he wasn't ready to get old.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," Nat laughed, rolling her eyes at him. "I do not believe, milaya, that you will ever be old, no matter what age you reach. And besides ....if we do not get old, we will not get to see our children grow up and have families of their own. We will not have grandchildren. I do not know about you, but ....I am sort of looking forward to seeing Ana, and Micah, and Dylan, with their own families and their own children."

"God, Nat ....Can we have them first?" he asked, looking somewhat appalled by her remark, and yet, there was something terribly romantic about the idea of growing old, so long as it was with her. "Promise we'll have matching rocking chairs, and when it's time, we'll go to Avalon and live out our last days there?" he asked her, looking just a little worried about something that wasn't likely to happen for decades.

"I would not have that any other way," she assured him. It had never occurred to her that they would not retire to Avalon when the time came. She smiled at him - the warm, tender smile that belonged to him, and him alone, promising the world with her eyes. It would have been a perfect moment, had not Ana decided to comment on her dinner.

"Poo."

Rhys laughed. Despite the subject at hand and the stress of the day, he couldn't help but laugh at his daughter's remark, whether intentional or not. "I think someone is missing her Papa's cooking," he remarked with a grin. "Wanna trade and I'll see if I can do my magic?" he asked, with his arms full of newborn baby.

"Ana!" Laughing, Nat set the pot down. "Such a rude little madam you are." She lifted the little girl to stand on her leg, wiping the dribbles of mashed stew from the little chin as their daughter giggled at their laughter. "Here, you go to Papa. Dribble on him for a while."

Swapping babies, it occurred to her that it couldn't be too much longer before they would be doing this with a pair of their own children, and that thought made her smile. Despite the sadness of the day, the grief their friends were struggling with, here in her lap was the proof that life really did just keep going on and on. If that wasn't worth it, then nothing was.

((A friend in need ....It's good to know that our hunter collection can rely on each other. :grin: Huge thanks to my partner in crime for letting me dwell on a natural death this much!))