The Rogue Legacy

Follow-up from the last Shadownight Legacy. SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, this is going to be awesome! :o


32. 21 - Extract from Midnight Shadownight-Rogue's Journal

It was late and I was getting worried. Bex had told me that Thomas had gone out hunting with Aldrin and John - the latter two had returned by Thomas had disappeared to somewhere. I asked them, but they just shrugged and said they didn't know where he went after they returned home.
Oh, that man. That silly, silly man.
I sighed. I shouldn't be up so late, so I prepared to get some rest. I threw back the covers of our bed and was about to settle in.
When who should throw open the door but Thomas?

“Queenie,” he belched, leaning against the door, “I think I o'er-did it!”
I gave him a look, but he had his head buried in the crook of his arm. I waited for him to continue.
“Damn, what am I gonna do now?” he said, his voice slurring heavily, “I'll need t'hide out somewhere until Midnight gets to-” he looked up and froze, “...Midnight?”
“Well, isn't this awkward?” I said, standing straight and crossing my arms over my chest.
Thomas tried to stand straight and raised a finger, but his body jerked to a side and he held the door for support. Good God, he was well-pissed, “There's a very sound explanation for this.”
“I'm giving you three chances to give me the correct, honest answer, Thomas. You know how this works.”
He sighed. He opened and closed his mouth as different ideas struck his beleaguered mind and he dismissed them.
“I'm drunk,” he said with sheer reluctance, “I deserve whate'er punishment you give me.”
“How much have you had to drink?” I asked.
“I-” he gagged and I went up to him so he wouldn't bash his head into the floor.

I helped him up and said, “Thomas, sit down.”
“Ah, here it comes...”
“What? No, I mean sit,” I led him to the bed and he sat with his back bent and his shoulders slumped. He wouldn't look at me, “Thomas?”
“Just... Too much, Midnight.”
“I can see that,” I put a hand on his shoulder, “But... Why?”
Thomas shook his head in a jerking fashion, “I don't want ye t'be upset, or sad, or scared, or worried, or-” he gagged again, “Oh God...”
“Lie down, Thomas, good grief...”
He curled up on the bed, “I just wanted to help...”
“You are, Thomas.”
“How is me bein' drunk as a lord helpful?” he spat bitterly.
“I wasn't talking about you being drunk, and you know it,” I curled up next to him, ignoring the strong smell of alcohol that he emitted.
He hugged me from behind, putting his hands on my abdomen, “It just doesn't feel like enough, sometimes.”
“It is, Thomas.”
“No, it's not.”
“Midnight... Why aren't ye mad at me?” he turned me onto my back and said, “Be mad at me.”
“You really look like you can't take that right now, Thomas. But I promise I'll be more mad in the morning, you know, if the hangover that's going to come of this isn't enough for you.”
He shook his head, “Ye're goin' soft on me. Why?”
“Because I've always been hard on you. Setting you rules, making sure you follow guidelines. I've done that for long enough.”
“You're sayin' this whilst I'm drunk. Clearly ye still need t'...mother me.”

“Thomas, I married a good man.”
“No, ye didn't.”
“Oi,” I touched his face and kissed him, “yes, I did. I'm not the kind that doesn't. I'm a very resourceful, intelligent woman.”
Thomas laughed more than he should have, “Even resourceful, intelligent women make mistakes.”
“You were never a mistake, Thomas.”
“Don't pity me so, that ye must lie.”
“Thomas, I have never regretted having you as my husband. Sure I questioned it sometimes, and we've had our ordeal of strange arguments - but I love you,” I smiled at him slowly, “That isn't changing any time soon, and I wouldn't love you if you weren't a good man.”
He looked up at me slowly, “Do good men get drunk?”
“Even good men make mistakes, Thomas.”
Thomas hugged me and kissed my neck softly, “I'm sorry I drank so much.”
“Thomas,” I giggled, “You can be such a big baby sometimes.”
He stroked my stomach, “I'm sure our child'll take after me then,” he laughed.
“I'd be worried if our child came back this drunk,” I laughed with him.
“That'll ne'er happen. I'll make sure of it. No husband and no child o' yours is e'er goin' t'come to ye drunk from this moment forth. Promise.”
“Calm down, Thomas. You probably won't even remember you said that.”
“Why did you think I was Queenie?”
“She knew. She walked in on me, and I made her keep quiet.”
“Get some rest, Thomas.”
“I...” he yawned, “I will.”

As soon as he was snoring, I got up from under his arms and went down the stairs quickly. I crept into the basement and found the crates of booze laying open.
“Hmm...” I said, “How to get this all outside...”
I nailed the lids back onto the crates and went back up to the ground floor. I didn't want to exert myself too much, so I called for Aldrin and Damon and asked them to take the crates outside for me.
Aldrin scratched behind his ear and asked, “What's this for, mumsy?”
I prised the lid of one crate open, and pulled out a bottle. Uncorking it, I dowsed all the crates in drink. I then struck a match, stood back and tossed it into the crates and walked away.
The crates exploded loudly.
“Just disposing of some quite lethal chemicals,” I told Aldrin.
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