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Jun. 7th, 2018 07:10 pmIt's been a blessedly quiet couple of weeks since Saoirse returned from the sea. They've both needed it, Greta thinks, while they find their way back to something like normal. Or figure out what the new normal is going to be, now that the school year is wrapping up -- and now that Saoirse is talking again, for good.
The weather's a little on the cool side, which is all the excuse Saoirse seems to need to clamber into Greta's lap one afternoon. Greta folds her arms around the girl, leaning back in the deck chair she'd dragged out of winter storage.
"Have you worn the dogs out for me?" she asks with a fond smile, brushing Saoirse's hair back with her fingers. Ever since that mess with the demon, Saoirse's been a bit cuddlier than usual, but Greta hasn't minded in the least. Any excuse to hold her, reconfirming that she's still here after being taken by the other selkies, is perfectly welcome as far as she's concerned.
The dogs trail up onto the deck and cheerfully collapse. Greta looks down at them, her daughter warm in her arms, and it's hard not to think that this would all be perfect, if. That there's just the one thing missing.
She hasn't broached the subject with Thomas, yet. In part, it's because he's such a bloody gentleman that she half-fears he'd do something absurd, like insist on marrying her, first. But the other reason is that it's only fair to talk about it with Saoirse before she does anything else. There's already been so much upheaval in the lass's life, and while Thomas's presence at the cottage is frequent enough, there's still a sizable gap between 'often' and 'always.' She doesn't want it to be one more big change than the girl can handle.
Not that she's planned any kind of approach for Saoirse, either. "This is nice, isn't it?" she asks, dithering a little as she tries to decide how best to go about it.
The weather's a little on the cool side, which is all the excuse Saoirse seems to need to clamber into Greta's lap one afternoon. Greta folds her arms around the girl, leaning back in the deck chair she'd dragged out of winter storage.
"Have you worn the dogs out for me?" she asks with a fond smile, brushing Saoirse's hair back with her fingers. Ever since that mess with the demon, Saoirse's been a bit cuddlier than usual, but Greta hasn't minded in the least. Any excuse to hold her, reconfirming that she's still here after being taken by the other selkies, is perfectly welcome as far as she's concerned.
The dogs trail up onto the deck and cheerfully collapse. Greta looks down at them, her daughter warm in her arms, and it's hard not to think that this would all be perfect, if. That there's just the one thing missing.
She hasn't broached the subject with Thomas, yet. In part, it's because he's such a bloody gentleman that she half-fears he'd do something absurd, like insist on marrying her, first. But the other reason is that it's only fair to talk about it with Saoirse before she does anything else. There's already been so much upheaval in the lass's life, and while Thomas's presence at the cottage is frequent enough, there's still a sizable gap between 'often' and 'always.' She doesn't want it to be one more big change than the girl can handle.
Not that she's planned any kind of approach for Saoirse, either. "This is nice, isn't it?" she asks, dithering a little as she tries to decide how best to go about it.
