emmalinefaun·:
This had been a terrible mistake - Emmaline should have known better than to have ever left the Russian compounds against her popochka’s incredibly strict orders, and already she was trying to think of the numerous ways that she could somehow manage to make it up to him. He had done so much to keep her safe - had all but sacrificed his entire life for her well-being - and this was how she had supposedly repaid him? By sneaking out to attend a party she had no business even knowing about in the first place? All she had wanted was to make sure that he was okay, to check in on Ronan and ensure that he was safe, but clearly that had been a ridiculously foolish decision for her to make. Her lover - the father of her unborn child - was a man capable of commanding entire armies if he had to, and he would have been far less stressed and ill at ease if she had just stayed home like he had so kindly requested of her.
They were together now, though, and there was no changing the past. He caught her instantly in the warm and reassuring strength of his big arms the moment she came rushing towards him; as if she weighed nothing at all, he brought her securely up against the broad expanse of his chest, and Emmaline could do little more than cry with relief as she clutched onto him. He kissed into her glossy dark curls, murmuring bits of soothing nonsense as if she hadn’t just directly disobeyed his orders, and the young girl whimpered helplessly in response, looking up at him with her teary-eyed and apologetic little gaze. He held her small, heart-shaped face between both of his big hands that were only ever gentle with her, and she sniffled as he pressed a reassuring kiss to her brow before reaching down to stroke her baby bump, as if to tell himself that it was still there. “T - Tatia and Anya, yes. Tatia said she had to find someone real bad, and Anya had never been to a party before, and - and we thought we’d be safe with all three of us together, but first Tatia disappeared, and then Anya, and then - and then - “ Emmaline broke off on another broken little sob, ducking her head and bringing her tiny hands up to her face to crook her index fingers beneath her tear-filled eyes. she cried just like a child would, all snuffling, hiccuping sounds and quivering shoulderblades.
Slowly, Ronan moved them away from the corner they had isolated themselves into, and Emmaline was incredibly grateful as he gave her one of his hands to cling to in the process. He was promising her that everything was okay - calling her his little bear - and Emmaline remained close to his side as he began to lead them back into the crowded ballroom. More than a little afraid of all of the unfamiliar sights, people, and smells, she cowered tentatively alongside her popochka, catching the pouty swell of her bottom lip between her teeth as she hesitantly raised her wide-eyed and anxious gaze to look throughout the dancefloor for any sign of her friends. “Tatiana said that she really wanted to, erm - really wanted to visit the petting zoo, so maybe she’s there?” she piped up hopefully, as desperate for Ronan’s approval as she always was, and she had to squeeze a little tighter up against his side, one hand protectively holding onto her tiny baby bump as a stranger nearly knocked her over. “And Anya, maybe - maybe she was wanting to find somethin’ to eat?”
Ronan was grateful to have Emmaline by his side again, and although the party seemed to be going rather well, he couldn’t help the icy fear that had spread through his veins when he realized that not only was she here, but she hadn’t arrived alone. Somewhere out there was Anya, who likely was lost and couldn’t speak English nearly well enough to find her way out of whatever situation she had gotten herself involved in, and Tatiana. He had a sinking feeling he knew why Tatiana would venture out to this event tonight, and it was only confirmed by Emmaline’s statement; Tatiana wanted to find someone. Thoughts whirled through his mind at the danger of the young princess being swept up by the Irish mob once more, and when Emmaline suggested that Tatiana might have visited the petting zoo first, he took her hand in his own and began weaving through the crowd, moving from one room to the next in desperate search of Tatiana and Anya. Viktor needed to know about this--the sooner, the better.
If anything happened to any of these young women before Ronan was able to safely dispatch them from the party, he’d never forgive himself.
****
“...I know it might not mean much to you, Lils, given how far I--retreated into myself after Emmaline, but I just thought...” Christian trailed off, squeezing Lilianna’s hands lightly as he scanned her face for any sort of reaction to what he was struggling (and failing) to confess. That he had never stopped loving her. That even after the months they’d spent apart, his heart would always remain in her gentle and caring hands. It was more difficult than he had ever possibly thought it would be, confessing how deeply and hopelessly in love with her he still was, when he saw a shock of brown hair from across the room; just to the side of Lilianna’s shoulder. A riot of chestnut curls atop a soft, round, sweet face. Christian blinked once, twice, his mind halting and his tongue tripping over speech as he felt himself freeze in place. He felt himself release Lilianna’s hands, moving to the side slightly, his brows furrowed together as he scanned the crowd for that same unruly set of brown curls once more.
Nothing. Perhaps he was--maybe his friends were right. He spent too many long hours poring over police reports and interviews; he had become too infatuated with his sister’s case; he was beginning to see her in everyone and everything around him. He was just about to turn away and apologize to Lilianna for losing his train of thought when he saw brown curls bobbing through the crowd once more. And this time...this time, there was no mistaking it. His sweet Emmaline, walking hand-in-hand with a man much older than her as they exchanged what Christian could only deem to be intimate words as they made their way through the party.
Everything stopped. The world stopped turning, the party froze around him, his heart stopped beating. There was a humming in his ears; a high-pitched ringing that dragged out all other noise as his younger sister--his baby; his sweet, sweet Emmaline--came into view, cradling her stomach and the small bump that peeked through the soft blue dress she wore. The bump. As if she were...
“Emmaline,” he breathed, the word forcing itself from his chest. His hands were shaking, his entire body trembling as he felt himself pull farther away from Lilianna. This wasn’t real; it was another one of his cruel dreams. Any moment now, he would wake up, pulled out of a dead sleep and would end up crying himself ragged and raw after dragging his feet to Emmaline’s room and seeing everything untouched. As it had been for the past few months. Her name was a broken prayer, unanswered for so many restless nights, as it wrenched itself free from his chest once more, this time in the form of a broken, stuttering, agonized cry. “Emmaline.”
And then he was tearing through the crowd, his hair falling in his face as he pushed past and through people as politely as he could manage. Panic lit in his chest, concern that he wouldn’t get to her in time filled him with a sense of urgency and dread as he tore his way through the party towards her. By the time he made his way to where she was standing, Christian had eyes only for her. He acted entirely on impulse and emotion, rather than logic and practicality, as he reached for Emmaline, his hands shaking as he drew her away from the man who was looking at Christian with renewed interest and wariness as he brought Emmaline to his chest. And as his body collapsed against hers, his fingers scrabbling for purchase on the blue gown she word, Christian felt the tears fall--freely and brokenly, he sobbed as he clutched Emmaline to his chest, feeling the small imprint of her body against his.
“I thought you were dead. I thought I would never see you again.”
