***All sexually active characters are of age, 18 years old at least, and all sexual activities are consensual, although some scenes may cause distress. Be safe and vigilant, and enjoy!***
Welcomed to her childhood home, Castle Cummings, Pleasant Reid-Cummings turns 30 today, days before Christmas. Pleasant is met by her niece, Gabriella White-Cummings, 25, invited to a trip down memory lane, going through 3 decades of her life.
Gabriella greets her aunt in the outer courtyard upon her arrival, "Auntie Pleasant, it is so good to see you."
Pleasant is surprised by Gabby's restraint, compared to her usual excitable energy that explodes with overabundance, commenting, "You seem much more... mature?"
Gabriella smiles, "I've been doing a lot of growing up."
Pleasant notices the bulge of her niece's belly, remarking, "You're also more pronounced down here," patting her belly.
Gabriella replies, "This is very special to me, yes. I'm going to be a mother sometime next year. I can't wait."
Pleasant enquires, "And, who's the father?"
Gabriella informs her aunt with a straight face, "Carmichael."
Pleasant laughs, then seeing the seriousness maintaining on young Gabby's face, remarking, "I have to say, I didn't think he had it in him. How did it happen?"
Gabriella explains, "First and foremost, he was such a gentleman, as you'd expect, but it's not a fling, or a one-time thing, or anything so casual; this is about true love and respect. Carmichael is someone I admire, which is why I gave up my hugely profitable career as a camgirl to tend to the castle, because he inspired me to come to this.
"It's not easy to say this, because it's supposed to be a secret, but, since he's so tired, and forced to rest much more than he's willing, but can do far less than he would like, everyone will know soon enough; Carmichael is dying. In my service to him, I dedicate myself to learning absolutely everything I can to be able to continue his work for our family, in this place. That pledge also came with a request from me to produce an heir of his flesh and blood, so that he will live on in some fashion, hence, I'm pregnant with his child."
Pleasant is misty-eyed as she takes in what her niece tells her, admitting, "Carmichael and I were often quite combative, but he was charged with my care, and, in that, I appreciate everything he does... did... Why am I talking like he's gone already?"
Gabriella chuckles, "I don't know, silly, but, I have to warn you if you are thinking about seeing him; he's barely holding on. The man you knew is all but gone."
Pleasant coolly says to her niece, "I'm sorry."
Gabriella gently nods, "Thank you.
"Anyway, since we're feeling sentimental right now, do you remember Christmases past when we were very little, when it still snowed? I'm not talking about the sporadic, thin layers of slush we occasionally get, but those proper, old-fashioned blankets of soft, white that covered everything thickly. How we used to play: me, you, Bonnie, having snowball fights for one thing, and building snow monsters; oh, what fun we had."
Pleasant looks around the courtyard, taking the time to see it, scanning every inch with her gaze, recalling the moments described to her that have been long forgotten. She can almost hear the laughter, and the screams, and the crying, which was usually Gabby's. She says, "That was a magical time. It doesn't seem real," looking upon the cold courtyard cobbles as they currently are, crisp and cold, but clear.
Gabriella agrees, "It was pure magic. It hasn't snowed for your birthday in so many years, but I will always remember those times," inviting her aunt inside, "Shall we?"
Pleasant follows Gabby into the castle, tracing a route through it's halls and rooms, much like how they would meander around to play as children, finding adventure and excitement in what is now mundane and dull. The journey takes them up to Pleasant's childhood bedroom, and she apprehensively states, "This is a place I still hate more than anywhere else in the castle."
Gabriella opens the door, saying, "Well, let's see about that."
Pleasant steps inside the room, seeing in almost exact detail, as best as can be achieved, precisely how it was when she was little, gasping, "This isn't what I expected at all."
Gabriella tells her aunt, "I don't remember much about how it looked when you were very young, simply because I was too young to remember, or wasn't born yet, but Carmichael did tell me stories, and we have photos," handing her aunt some photograph prints.
To Pleasant, each photograph is a window into her past, seeing herself: playing with toy blocks in the middle of the floor, or scribbling with crayons in colouring books, or having tea parties with her dolls. She sees a doll's house she used to play with, looking up at where it should be to see it, not old and dusty, but restored to how it was.
Gabriella watches her aunt standing rooted to the spot in the middle of the room, staring at the doll's house. Her aunt raises her forearm to her face to dab her eyes, sniffling as she does so.
Pleasant controls her breath, calling back to Gabby, "I must be coming down with a cold, or something."
Gabriella allows her aunt to have her moment, "Must be," watching as her aunt's poise falters. Every breath is so heavy that her shoulders lift, fall forward, and are forced back to maintain her posture, but her emotions are obvious.
Pleasant composes herself enough to say, "I miss what it was like to be here at that time, hosting my own parties, and pretending to live a fairytale life with the dolls. Everything seemed so simple. Life is altogether much more cruel than I ever knew to even imagine. I had no nightmares. I had no worries. I had no concept of how difficult things could be; even relationships with people are difficult, and nothing like how I played with my dolls."
Gabriella awaits her aunt's decision to continue, taking a trip down the tower to come to the inner courtyard, stepping out into the chill, breathing deep of the clean air as she says, "I can remember so many times here that were just you, me, and Bonnie."
Pleasant sees ghosts of her younger self running around, chased by and giving chase to her niece and her cousin. Memories of times through the seasons where they soak up the sun's rays, shooting each other with jets of water from water-guns, idly blowing bubbles through the plastic rings that you dipped into bottles of solution, and sharing in ghost stories as the nights draw longer.
Gabriella also says, "Of course, there's also much more recent years, like the announcement of your engagement, or the subsequent wedding."
