Remember How I Love You (Sequel to 'Through Fire and Water')

Where's Mummy?

Legolas’ P.O.V.

“Where’s mummy?” Thalion asks again as I tuck his blankets around him. He’s been asking it ever since Ana stormed out, and that was hours ago. I wish I could tell him, I really do, but I’m just as scared and confused about all this as he is.

“Mummy has had to go out” I tell him, the same words I’ve been repeating all day. He stares at me, his eyes so huge and innocent. I can’t help but see Ana in him, in his hair, in his eyes, in the way he looks to me for guidance, just like Ana has done so many times over the past years, although she never did it as openly as Thalion does.

“I want mummy” he says, and his face breaks my heart. I look at him for a moment, stood holding the cuddly rabbit he can’t sleep without, before giving in a sliding into the bed beside him.

“I know” I say to him “I know, so do I. Mummy will be back soon though, I promise. She loves you very much, as do I”

I slide the rabbit into his little arms and then wrap him in mine. He may be worried but nothing changes the fact that he’s exhausted. It only takes a couple of minutes before he’s whiffling in his sleep. I wait until I know he’s properly asleep before slipping out of the bed, tucking the blankets around him and brushing a little bit of hair out of his face. Then I slip from the room into the much brighter living room where Nemir is sat by the fire, Estel on her lap, reading her a story.

I slump down on a chair and listen to the end of the story, getting drawn in despite myself. Parenthood changes you in many ways, but the biggest change is definitely the development of a love of all things designed for children: Playing pretend; cuddly animals; childish jokes, but most of all bedtime stories.

It isn’t quite Estel’s bedtime yet but she is yawning and her eyes are closing before Nemir has even finished the story. When the story is over I say “I know it’s not your bedtime sweetheart, but do you want to go to bed?”

She nods slightly, rubbing her eyes. I hold my hand out for her and she hops off Nemir’s lap, kissing her on the cheek and mumbling “Night night aunty Nemir”.

“Night night sweetie” Nemir says. Estel takes my hand but her movements are a little slow and uncertain so I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to bed. She’s absolutely exhausted and is pretty much asleep before I’ve even finished tucking her in, although she still has time for a quick and heartbreaking ‘Daddy, where’s mummy? You said she would be back by bedtime”

“Mummy’s just a little late home” I say “Go to sleep, everything will be alright in the morning”

She seems to believe me, after all why shouldn’t she? I’m Daddy, and Daddy is supposed to have all the answers. But I don’t have all the answers and I have to pretend to my children that I’m not absolutely terrified. Estel’s eyes flutter closed and she’s asleep almost instantly asleep, which is a little unusual but I shrug it off, slipping out of the room.

Now that there are no children around, I can finally allow vent to my own internal panic. As soon as Estel’s door is closed I sigh and lean against the stone wall, closing my eyes.

“Relax” Nemir says “I’m sure she’s fine, she’s probably still steaming in the forest somewhere”

“No, she should be back by now. She would never voluntarily leave the kids for this long without an explanation. We both know how hard it can be on them when we fight”

“Maybe she just stormed off a little further than normal and is taking her time coming back. There’s no need to panic yourself”

“But what if something has happened?”

“And what if something hasn’t. I bet she turns up at the door and sees how panicked you’ve gotten yourself and she’ll laugh and tell you how silly you’ve been”

I can certainly see Ana doing that and for a moment my fears are abated, but then I think of all the horrible things which could have happened and my panic comes back twofold.

“Are you telling me you’re not worried?” I ask Nemir and her face, normally so calm and dependable, allows a hint of concern to show through. “Of course I am” she says but quickly regains her composure, taking control of the situation like Nemir always seems to do when things start falling down. I can see why Ana is such good friends with her, the two of them are total opposites: Ana makes situations and Nemir calmly straightens them out, they’re the perfect fit together. “Go to bed Legolas” she says “I’m sure things will be better in the morning” she touches my arm gently, smiling a little tiredly. Nemir is sweet and she always does her best to understand but she’s never been in love, I don’t know how she expects me to sleep. But I sigh and nod anyway. “Look, I’m going off to my chambers but I’ll be back first thing in the morning” she says, picking up her jacket from the table. Before she leaves she turns to me and says “I’m sure she’s alright, Legolas. You know what she’s like, she’s probably just trying to be dramatic to make a point”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right” I say and with that she closes the door behind her, leaving me alone in my agonizingly silent home.

I slump down onto a chair, trying to master my emotions. I’m absolutely terrified for my wife and my imagination is not helping matters by showing me images of hundreds of equally horrific and improbable scenarios. My fear grows and grows until I’m pacing back and forth across the room, on the point of irrationality. And then something deep inside me, some tiny voice I have never once listened to before, pipes up.

‘She said she might disappear for days’ the voice says ‘She’s doing this on purpose. She wants to spite you’

“No” I mutter, shaking my head to try and silence that part of me “No, Ana would never do that. She was just angry, that’s all”

‘Are you sure she would never do that?’ The voice asks and anger flares inside me, annoyed at myself for even thinking that. Of course Ana would never do that.

‘It’s just, she was so angry and she’s never been the most predictable of people. Your father’s right, she has too much fire’

No. Dad’s not right at all. I love Ana with all my heart, she’s perfect. She may have a bit of a temper but she was perfectly justified in being as angry as she was, I said some awful things.

But then. Ana said some awful things too.

She said I was spoilt, that I didn’t do my bit. She said she hated me, that sometimes she wished she’d never married me. At one point she’d said she wished I wasn’t the father of her children. Her children, not ours, hers.

She was just angry, she didn’t mean it. I have to remember that. And I have to remember the terrible things I said too. I’m not guilt free in this.

Maybe she is doing this deliberately.

“No!”

I shake my head violently. No, Ana didn’t mean those things. After all, I didn’t mean those things I said. No, Ana didn’t mean those things. Something must have happened to her.

“Give it 'til morning” I mutter, rubbing my eyes.