"And maybe this is why when Pandora opened the box that carried such calamities which inflicted all of mankind, gentle hope emerged too."
- an excerpt of Nikita Gill's poem "Where Hope Comes From"
or in which
the timechild is saved and finds the...
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Cardiff, Wales 1867
It had been two years since The Fletchers had found Pandora, and no memory returned to her. Pandora's personality flourished as she grew used to Abigail's mothering and guidance on social matters, and Gabriel who had taken on the job of educating Pandora on the matters of academic achievement. Gabriel once was a professor at Oxford in History and was full of stories whenever Pandora asked for one.
Pandora was as sharp as a tack, she learned quickly and had a hunger for knowledge even Gabriel struggled to fulfill through only academics so he soon turned to the family's horses for something new to teach the youngest in the household.
Horse riding wasn't something you could think your way out of and it took Pandora some time to learn. "You have to listen to the animal as much as you wish them to listen to you," coached Gabriel. Much to Abigail's horror it only clicked for the girl when she rose astride rather than sidesaddle, though Gabriel didn't mind.
At first, she rode one of the large shire horses that usually were used to pull the carriage, though, after her interest in the beautiful species, Gabriel brought her to one of the local farms where a dapple grey Irish Sporthorse gelding was bought for her. Gabriel, as Pandora learned quickly, was a man of few words. A smile, a shake, or a nod of his head was all you were likely to get from him. He knew best how to deal with Abigail and Pandora, gifts and sharing knowledge were his love languages.
Horse riding was something Abigail wasn't ever really big on, so it quickly became Gabriel and Pandora's bonding activity. Often found at the stalls tacking up for a ride out at the local park terrorizing birds by cantering their horses into flocks of them. It was only right that at Pandora's first Christmas, Gabriel had her fitted for a proper riding habit, navy blue wool, and silver detail work, it was by far the most intricate outfits she owned beyond the evening gowns that she very rarely wore with a hat that pinned to her hair.
***
It was Christmas Eve 1867 when shortly after this Christmas Eve dinner, the Fletchers fetched out of one of the large locked glass curio cabinets, the family bible. A large very old leather-bound book that held every name of every Fletcher as far back as 1650.
"Pandora as you know we have had the police keeping an ear open for anyone looking for a girl matching your description." Pandora nodded as Gabriel spoke, his hand on his wife's waist. "It's been two years and there have been no inquiries. We have been given the go-ahead and we would like to officially adopt you, and make you a Fletcher." Abigail finished with a smile so bright it practically lit up the room.
Tears slid from Pandora's eyes. "Really?" she questioned, large green eyes found Gabriel's in question. The man of few words nodded, his lips pulling into a wide rare smile. "What do I do?" She asked. Abigail opened the book to a page where a blue velvet ribbon had been holding its place.
"You add your name, my dear," Abigail spoke from where she had returned to gingerly holding the arm of the man she loved.
There in the book smells of dust and old leather is a list of names and dates each written in a unique cursive script to the individual, ending with the most recent addition, Abigail Mary Fletcher in neat ink and elegant script. "Can I be Pandora Mary? I don't have a middle name." She admitted green eyes found Abigail's brown as a tear left her eye. "Of course, Pandora."
And written in a similar sooty black shade of ink as those who came before her on the line just below that of Abigail's name and date of entry was Pandora's.
Pandora Mary Fletcher December 24, 1867
***
Christmas Day came quickly, the last of the tangerines had been eaten with breakfast and a few sweets had been savored shortly after. Gabriel had an itinerary for the day as the family had opened gifts the night before, leaving his wife to have a bath the father and daughter duo set out, Pandora in her riding habit and a winter coat she wouldn't mind getting dirty, and Gabriel in a warm suit with a heavy coat overtop. A top hat which Pandora constantly called "silly" was placed on top of his head.
"First one to the top of the rolling hill gets the last sweet from Christmas!" Pandora cried, pushing her horse, aptly named, Ophelia after the heroine from Hamlet, to a canter as they entered the park.
"I'm not getting you more when you lose!" He spoke before joining her at the pace, loudly calling for his horse to speed up, though the horse being a warmblood wasn't as built for this as his daughter's grey Irish sport horse.
Pandora ended up winning, she ate the last sweet as messily and completely against her mother's wishes for her to have a sense of ladylike behavior as she could without damaging the red plaid dress she wore as they were going to the theatre for the telling of "The Night Before Christmas"
The theatre was always packed though knowing his daughter's love of plays Gabriel had reserved a box this Christmas, as one final gift to his newfound daughter, one he had thought he'd never have.
Pandora was enthralled with the play, as she always was. Sitting on the edge of her seat eyes glued on looking through the opera glasses she could see every detail of the show. Pandora sighed with the largest smile that pulled at her face almost hurting the muscles as she moved her hand to hold her fathers, and her other to grasp her mother's who was sitting on the other side of her.
