The Prodigal Father

Then there he was.

It was his build, his face, his hair, though it was streaked with gray. But it was not his name.

This was Gilbert, not Gustave. A renowned knight. Everyone seemed to know who he was.

It is not uncommon for those with pasts they would rather forget to come to the monastery and take up new mantles.

She was certain it was her father.
She knew it in her heart.
So why?

Why would he not look at her?

Why would he not speak to her?

Yet when moments came he could not avoid looking or talking to her, he spoke as if she was no more than a stranger. A student of the academy. Nothing more, nothing less.  Yet if she truly was a stranger, why did his eyes hold such pain? Such recognition?

                   ————————————

It was war. War against the church, war against the alliance, against the kingdom. Her teacher was gone, the archbishop gone, everyone else scattered or dead. For five long years she saw so few of her friends. Those that were still her friends, and thankfully nor did she see those who were no longer on the same side as she was. Her father was gone once again. Slipped from her grasp.

Five years, the millennium fast approaching. Her promise to return remembered.

She did not imagine the dead prince would be there, or many of her friends.

Or her father.

yet now they were thrust together by war. By need to help one another to fight against the empire.

why won't he look at her.

Why won't he speak to her.

Why must he ignore her.

The anger and hurt finally reach a boiling point, and off she went, searching for him amongst the ruins of the monastery. It wasn't difficult to find him. There he was, predictably in the cathedral, standing solemnly as he prayed.

The questions pour from her. But the answers he has to give to nothing to sooth the wounds his absence has caused. She does not want his empty apologies. And to her, they are empty. She has made something of her life without him. She has not needed him. Not truly. But her mother she knows, still waits for her father to return on day.

He apologizes, but he's clear he is not intending to return. So what good are his apologies?

                      ———————————

when he summons her, it comes quite unexpected. He wishes to talk to her? So she answers his call, meeting him there in the cathedral where she last left him. Had he even moved since that evening? Or had he stayed there, as if he was one of the saintly statues carved from marble?

The gift he gives her would have made her shout with joy and smile a beaming, happy smile what feels like a lifetime ago. But now, as she holds the little wooden doll. Her heart is not sure whether to be elated or angry. He made this, thinking of her. But how can one doll repair what was lost for so many years?  It can't.

Throw it away if she feels like it, he insists. But how cruel, she thinks. She should cry, yell, scold him, stop him from walking away. She should go to the bridge of the cathedral and throw the doll as hard as she can off of it. But she cannot. And she knows he knows as well as she does that she could never throw it away. And so it stays, tucked away in a pocket of her dress.

To throw away, or give away later, she tells herself. She will. She'll throw it away. She must.

                        ———————————

The tower scared her. It scared Ashe, too. That, at least, was comforting. But they made it out alive, thankfully.

But wait.
Her doll.

where is her doll?  She had it when it when they entered the tower.

its with a mixed feeling of despair that she realizes she has left it in the tower.

Ashes concern is touching, but she cannot bring herself to go back in for it, and she could not ask him to go in her stead.

Yet when she finds herself standing outside the tower again, trying to sum up the courage to go in for the doll she finds she simply cannot bring herself to do it. Her fear of the tower is stronger than the attachment she feels for the gift her father has given her. She should just turn around and leave it. She had meant to throw it away anyway. Why has she come back for it?

But Ashe has come to her aid. With a ruckus he comes from the tower, stumbling into her before happily showing off what he had braved his fears for. A sweet gesture. But Ashe does not know what it is like to feel abandoned.

                  —————————————

She finds him praying. Not unsurprising.
Why does he think himself to blame for the tragedy. Why must he blame himself for failing the late king. The prince survived the tragedy. He fulfilled his duty as best he could. The late king woulve understood that. Everyone else understands it. Why can't he?
The bundle of letters he hands her comes as a surprise. Burn them, if the contents upset her, he tells her.
Letters for her mothers, letters for her. Why did he never send them?
How many times did they speak of wishing he would at least send them word he was okay. Just once!
But here in this bundle there is one for every birthday, every holiday. One for any possible occasion over the years.
Why would he not send them?

She should take them and burn each one in the flame of the candle she reads them by. Yet even as her hand holds one above the flame she cannot bring herself to lower it into the fire. Instead it goes back into the pile with a sigh. No, upset her as they might, just like the doll, she cannot bring herself to be rid of them. He never stopped writing them, even if he never sent them. He still thought of them in his absence. In his self imposed penance.

His apologies when she confronts him ring as hollow to her ears as all the ones before. But now, something in her heart feels a little more mended. The bundle of letters can never heal the hurt he has caused, but now she understands his mind a little more.
They reach an understanding. If he will not send the letters, than she will. He did not hate them as they had feared but never dared to say aloud. He was misguided, certainly, but the love was there.
A promise to return made, and its a promise she fully intends to hold him to. If he does not keep it, then they will be done, she will never speak to him again.
But somehow, in her heart, she knows there is no need to fear that will happen.

She cannot wait until they are all a family once again.

[naturally I don't own fire emblem]