Prompt 3: Snowballs!
Writer: blueboxcompanion. Characters: Silas Heap, Sarah Heap, Simon Heap. Pairing: Silas/Sarah. Warnings: Fluff! Prompt: Snowballs!
Silas Heap draws his cloak against the chill weaving its way through the ramblings. All doors are closed, lights long extinguished by the wild wind. His own beautifully worn door lets Silas inside and slams in the face of the icy corridors.
The fireplace expertly lit by Sarah that morning spreads it’s warmth through their cluttered living room. “Simon?” he calls, poking at the glowing embers. “Sarah?” He makes his way through the kitchen in search of his wife and the dinner she had surely prepared. It is then that he hears a laugh of joy from outside. Peering through the frosted window he can see a bob of curls and the swish of a cloak.
Silas makes his way outside to Sarah’s garden, the quiet place of rest and solitu-
SMACK!
A stunned Silas observes the battlefield his wife and son have been playing in. “Papa!” The boy bounds through the snow and attaches himself to his father’s leg. “Wanna build a snowman, Papa?” His tiny nose and cheeks are red, his smiling lips tinged blue. With a laugh Silas wipes the snowball remains from his beard and hoists young Simon onto his hip. Sarah wades over and places a gentle kiss on Silas’ cheek. “I promised him you’d build a snowman when you finished working,” she whispers, wrapping an arm around his waist. Baby Simon wriggles free and falls flat in the snow. “I’m okay,” he reassures, rolling about gleefully.
“It’s freezing, Sarah. We’ll catch our death,” Silas reasons. Nevertheless, he returns her kiss and scoops a handful of snow into his son’s hands. In the corner of his eye he spots Sarah moving for the door. “Mummy can help us make our snowman, right, Si?” he asks, grinning over his shoulder. “Mummy build snowman too!” Simon agrees.
***
The snores of baby Simon filter through the living room in a soft but steady rhythm, music to his parent’s ears. They sit together on Silas’ armchair in silence, gazing at the cooling embers in the fireplace. Sarah curls a strand of the straw coloured hair she so dearly loves around a dainty finger, smiling happily. “Sarah?” he asks. It’s not often that they get a chance to spend time together like this. “I was just thinking, dear,” she replies.
“About what?” Sarah lets go of his hair to look into those magykal twinkling eyes. “How do you feel about Simon having a younger sibling?”
Silas stares straight ahead, stunned. “Are you..you know? Are you sure?”
Sarah’s laugh fills the room and Silas is certain a sound like that could warm even the coldest corners of the Ramblings.
“Yes, Dear. Now wipe that look off your face and give me a kiss.”
