Between the gentle patter of raindrops dancing against the cloth canopy above him, and the sharpened chill to the air that flowed around him, Dagramir sat unusually attentive one bright afternoon. Winter’s chilly grip upon the land had begun to wane, its attentions diverting elsewhere. A new season was dawning, one of fresh flowers and offspring alike. And, just so, his very own child sat on the ground to his front; knees bent, and attention taken. It seemed to be such a tired banality - that any child born of his seed would share his locks, his eyes, his charm. But there the boy was. Bright-eyed and pale-skinned. A ghostly apparition of a time he held no memory of yet felt so very nostalgic for.
“You’ll be stealing hearts in no time, my boy…”
The comment would murmur quietly from the Gondorian’s lips, another absent thought stealing life through his breath. The child had lived naught but a few years and already he could see so much of himself in him. So much of her, too. He was pretty. A face destined for greatness if you had asked his father in that moment. A whole life lay waiting for him down an uncertain, misted path, one Dagramir had every intention of walking with him. For as long as he held life in his chest. Thanks to the most unlikely of revelations, he had a firmer reason to live than ever before. A reason other than the wonders of stale ale and soft skin. His thoughts and opinions now required a stretch further, to encompass the livelihoods of both his prodigy and his love. The woman who held within her hands his entire soul; such was the power she now wielded.
Thoughts of his Raven were palpable. Relieved of their consignment to be little more than wistful apparitions, his ghost had returned to him. Along with many others. So many familiar faces he had seen in his recent travels. A kindling of something akin to hope fluttering in his stomach that somehow, this time, things would be different. No longer did the rogue have to wander the expanse alone. A convocation of beings he respected bringing life back into his aching muscles. So many possibilities, so many exciting avenues to wander down. So many. Enough to have almost distracted him from the shaky toddling frame of his son, Arthur having taken his distracted state as an opportunity to make a break for freedom. Laughing, the foreigner stood. Meandering after him to scoop the boy up into his arms, a hold he had struggled with at first but had begun to grow into.
“Hey! Now, now…not so fast. What is it? Are you hungry?”
Arthur looked at him up and down, blue eyes shimmering unsteadily as they searched his face. This must be how everyone else feels, Dagramir couldn’t help but wonder to himself. As the boy nodded, a repetition of ‘hung-y’ leaving his little lips, the Gondorian would have laughed as he began making his way back towards the centre of town. Down from the hill they had been perched upon. As they so casually made their way through the afternoon activity of Bree, the Viper could have sworn they were being watched. Little hairs prickled upon the nape of his neck. Though there was no danger to either of them, nothing to bother the duo but the adoring gazes held from fishwives and matrons alike. Was there something so intriguing about the love of a father that held such sway to the hearts of most? Such a concept was unfamiliar to the man. He never knew his father’s love, forged instead by the fires of anger and spite. Though he knew there was a different way. There had to be. Of all the horrors that the world held, he would choose not to be just another one to add to his son’s future troubles.
Still, the gleeful whispers of such fair maidens caused his ears to prickle. Thoughts departing to his most recent of endeavours around town, as the pair reached a stall laden with baked goods deep within the markets. Eyes perusing the conditions of the loaves while his thoughts held still on the topic of the maiden. Already, he had begun to make new memories both within, and just outside of, the boundaries of the settlement of Ashforde. Some pleasant, and others not so. For each memory held within his previous home, ones of almost identical origin had begun to take their place. The work was much of the same, if not kinder on his body. It was a living. A start. One he owed a great debt to his red-ribboned friend for. Both she, and his trusted associate, had done wonders for him. The least he could do was to try and offer something tangible in return. Maybe things really could be diff-…
“…Can I help you, sir?”
Dagramir blinked. A short, stocky man was stood in front of him. A dusted apron flowing around the contours of his belly; a red-tinged face beaming a friendly smile towards him. His muted auburn eyes betraying his thoughts - a clear flash of confusion as to why this foreigner had been staring daggers into his fresh produce.
“Oh! Aye, of course. How much is it for a loaf?”
“Why, that’d cost ye jus’ five coppers, sir. I can promise you, they’re the best ye’ll find anywhere in town!”
The local’s brazen claim had immediately brought a few disdained glares to their direction. It had also wrought forth a laugh from Dagramir’s gut, mirthful tones that had matched the giggling of his son who had likely joined in simply to feel somewhat involved. With his free hand, the Gondorian ruffled about his person. His pale fingers slithering their way down to his coin purse, counting six coins between his digits, before producing them to the baker. The stout man beamed him a quick grin, likely glad that, for once, his boast had paid for itself.
“Why, thank you, sir! Ye’re most kind! There ye’go little lad, hold onto that. You boys ‘ave a lovely day, now!”
Arthur had accepted the loaf of bread he had been offered, his face beaming with delight at the sudden sight of such a glorious bounty. A feast surely made for a king. Or, at the very least, for a little lord. As they wandered off on their journey once more, Dagramir had been quick to swipe the loaf from his son, choosing instead to break off pieces for the boy to intermittently grasp, eat and drop to his liking. Moments passed so very quickly with his blood by his side. His guest house of a cottage had begun to gleam with a homely warmth. He could make out more and more faces gliding past his home, newcomers to the town that filled him with a sentimental sense of adventure. Ambitions rising that he too could build a life here. One absent of the tortures he had once endured. Devoid of the pain he had brought upon himself through his careless actions and blatant disregard for consequence. Life had been put into a new perspective for the man, such was the power a child held. Allowing him to view the world through a lens untainted by personal bias.
Perhaps, yes, his grandiose views upon the journey he would undertake in life hadn’t ended with him collecting indebted coin for someone other than himself. But at least he was content for the time being. It had to be a rare day indeed for the snake to find himself comfortable in his surroundings. The locale now suitable to his tastes, the company pleasantly fair and entertaining. Although in the back of his mind, he may have still yearned for something more. He was a man, after all. A victim to an insatiable greed and an unconquerable bravado. Yet, for now, with the small frame of a child he had helped bring to life clutched awkwardly to his waist, things would have to do. Danger may well have lurked around the corner, but the man had learned that peace was an oft-unattainable treasure. He would enjoy each peaceful moment while it lasted.
Though, at the sudden realisation that they had now stretched over their allotted time, and that their shared companion would have been sat waiting with a look of displeasure on her face, Dagramir’s enjoyment took pause. With a flickering smile in his son’s direction, the boy not even noticing as another clump of bread made its way into his mouth, he quickened his pace. There was work still to be done, to mould an aging rogue and daring lover into a father worthy of their time. As each day passed, the weight of responsibility was easing. And as the mass lifted, he could allow his hopes to grow. This time, things will be different.
