Seem to Darken as We Go // [Thistle/Mace Blitz]
Feb 6, 2014 17:33:44 GMT -5
Post by admin kay on Feb 6, 2014 17:33:44 GMT -5
theres a thunder in our hearts baby
so much hate for the ones we love
Mace was up to his ears in dirty diapers. He snapped the velcro around Mason's bloated tummy, kicked the diaper pail closed, and then lifted the mostly naked little boy to his chest. With one hand he swabbed down the changing table, cleaned what he could of himself and then turned to find Juliet with a block crammed into her mouth. "Spit it out," he growled. When that didn't work, he resorted to his favorite bribe. "It's snack time."
She was still too little to walk properly, to speak any more babble, to comprehend compound sentences. But snack time. That she understood. And so he did. He scooped her up with his free hand, balancing her against his side. What he wouldn't have given for an extra pair of hands. He'd become so used to help. From Sewanee, Reggie, Halle, all the myriad servants the Bryzes employed. But none of them could accompany them to the Capitol, and he had long since alienated Olive, Ten's escort. So while Julian mentored, Mace was left with two babies who ruled his life.
What wouldn't he have given? Well mentorship, for one. He didn't even feel relieved that Saffron had the responsibility for the 66th. He felt he deserved it, had earned the break. Whenever Thistle or Aurora looked his way, he reached for a bottle or mumbled something about bath time. Mason was ever at his side, often slung across his chest. Juliet was never far. It turned out that all the grousing and swearing didn't deter people as effectively as infants. He'd gone almost all week without having more than a cursory conversation with either tribute. Or with Saffron, for that matter. It seemed when she wasn't mentoring, she wasn't in Ten's suite either. He seriously considered sending Kieran to find out what how she was spending her time.
Even snack time was quiet. In the dining room, an array of mushed vegetables and fruits had been left for his children, and slightly heartier fare for himself. He dropped Juliet into a high chair, and then spooned a little of this and that into a bowl. She was a mess in seconds. From the small fridge, he pulled a bottle of baby formula and a wedge of hard cheese for himself. He sat the head of the table, ready for a few moments of quiet while Juliet plowed through her food, when he heard a door open.
He tried not to sound as sleep deprived as he felt when he said, "in the dining room, love." Because who else could it be?
She was still too little to walk properly, to speak any more babble, to comprehend compound sentences. But snack time. That she understood. And so he did. He scooped her up with his free hand, balancing her against his side. What he wouldn't have given for an extra pair of hands. He'd become so used to help. From Sewanee, Reggie, Halle, all the myriad servants the Bryzes employed. But none of them could accompany them to the Capitol, and he had long since alienated Olive, Ten's escort. So while Julian mentored, Mace was left with two babies who ruled his life.
What wouldn't he have given? Well mentorship, for one. He didn't even feel relieved that Saffron had the responsibility for the 66th. He felt he deserved it, had earned the break. Whenever Thistle or Aurora looked his way, he reached for a bottle or mumbled something about bath time. Mason was ever at his side, often slung across his chest. Juliet was never far. It turned out that all the grousing and swearing didn't deter people as effectively as infants. He'd gone almost all week without having more than a cursory conversation with either tribute. Or with Saffron, for that matter. It seemed when she wasn't mentoring, she wasn't in Ten's suite either. He seriously considered sending Kieran to find out what how she was spending her time.
Even snack time was quiet. In the dining room, an array of mushed vegetables and fruits had been left for his children, and slightly heartier fare for himself. He dropped Juliet into a high chair, and then spooned a little of this and that into a bowl. She was a mess in seconds. From the small fridge, he pulled a bottle of baby formula and a wedge of hard cheese for himself. He sat the head of the table, ready for a few moments of quiet while Juliet plowed through her food, when he heard a door open.
He tried not to sound as sleep deprived as he felt when he said, "in the dining room, love." Because who else could it be?
tell me that we both matter dont we
