[ Anya is already starting to collect seashells while her mother tests the rest of the cords. It looks like she's ignoring him again until she stops and takes a small pad of paper out and a pencil. She writes on it and walks over to him. She holds out the pad for him to read: ]
[This would not be the first or the last time he was ignored. Frank is ever faithful. And his patience has been tempered by unruly seas, sour men and misfortune. Still, he grinds his teeth. The bit of paper with the swirled lettering has him stare. First at the letters. Some of them he recognizes.
He looks beyond at her face.]
...I don't know how to read. I was told to come and fetch you. I was told to keep you safe. If you stay you will be wet, cold and possibly drowned. None of those things are what your husband asked for.
[ Her nostrils flare at that and she snatches the paper back. She's insulted by his ignorance but frustrated more so than that. She shoves the pad and pencil into her dress pocket and signs at him aggressively but making sure to cut across her throat and shake her head.
They will not leave. That is the end of it.
She then gestures for him to leave, as if dismissing him before turning back to her piano. ]
[Is she mad? Perhaps. There's no telling what it is that she's thinking. The way her eyes burn and her hands fly it is like watching the expanse of the sky swirl and thunder. The true meaning is trouble and difficulty.]
I'm staying. I gave my word. That's why I'm here. ...that's why you are here too.
[Frank doesn't budge a muscle from the spot he's chosen to fix himself upon. If the whole world were made of people like them, literally nothing would be done.]
[There are more shells than people on this shore. And far more sand than both of them. And all the water ready to swallow up any of them. He sets his jaw and lightly shakes his head as he walks past the little one. The place where he had planted himself is much, much deeper. The waves have just begun to skirt closer.
At least the child is having a good time. She might be her mother's voice but she's not her mother's mind. How many months must she have been holed up on deck? It's one thing for a sailor, for a grown man or a passenger.]
I understand you want to stay. I understand this is an important piece. If we're to truly stay the night here, at least tell me you know it will not be an easy night.
[Staying is what is called for. So staying he shall. Though why it is her husband chose this span of time to finish business and not see his wife settled is beyond him. Careless. He steps beside the great cased instrument and inspects the boards and nails. Sealed and safe, that much is good.]
[ Anya pouts at him as he walks away, having wanted to ask him if he would build a sand castle with her. Oh well, she goes off again, to where the dry sand meets the wet and dumps her shells down on the ground.
But at his words, Natasha stops her playing once again and looks at him. She gives a nod, she understands. She's always understood how difficult things can be. But her piano is worth the hardship for her. ]
[So long as she stays close. He has one eye on the little bundle of skirts and the other near.]
There we have it then.
[An impasse. If she thought she'd be rid of him then she was sorely wrong. The notes cut the air and paint the afternoon with a kind of magic that this place has never seen. The small lapse to silence brings about how strange this all is. To Frank. To the lady.]
Besides the impossible is there anything you think I can do for you that would make you both more comfortable? I'm... at your disposal, in case you hadn't noticed.
[ She stares at him for a moment before hitting the keys harder, more aggressively as she glares at him. In time, he'll come to realize that the piano is more to her than a simple instrument and always has been.
Anya runs over to him and tugs on his trouser leg. She'll try this again. ]
[Really is a little thing. And to say no when there is nothing else to do would be a sin. Frank smiles and finds his heart aching for a little girl and boy who no longer exist.]
I'll see what I can do. God did not make me a carpenter or an architect. You're destined to be queen just the same. And a queen deserves a castle.
[ Natasha watches them out of the corner of her eye, suppressing the smile until they have both moved behind her. Her playing becomes more gentle as she sits down on a box they left behind and Anya already telling him what she wants to do and motioning for him to get down on the sand with her.
She misses her father so much and one of her memories consists of him getting down on the floor or ground to play with her.
Night does come in an hour's time and Natasha stops long enough to get a fire started, using what she learned from Clint. It's still hard for her sometimes, her heart aching at the memory of him. She hadn't wanted this new marriage. But how could she disgrace her family by refusing? She sits back on the crate and watches the fire, silent and lost in memories once again. ]
[Building up the structures and finding places for the shells takes up time. He crouches right there in the sand with the little girl. Quiet and patient, not what one would typically expect of a man of his size or with the markings on his body. Without a second thought, Frank removes his coat and vest. The vest offers it first to Anya. She's small enough to swim in it.]
Are you cold, Ma'am?
[He offers her his coat. The tide is lapping the legs of the piano, creeping closer to Natasha's seat.]
[ Anya takes the vest without hesitation, putting it on and running over to her mother to hugs her legs, making her look at her newest piece of clothing. Natasha smiles down at her daughter and cups her face lovingly.
When Frank asks her that, she shakes her head. She gestures for him to keep his coat. ]
[The day has been long, warm and tiring. Frank still finds a means to smile watching the little girl prance about. It's surreal to watch a similar expression kindle in her mother's face which has been stern and distant.
His brow nits as he slowly starts to put it on.]
Are you hungry?
[Because he can leave them to find something around. Maybe even wade into the waves to try and get a fish.]
[ It's no surprise to her that she reserves most of her affection for her daughter. She has paid little mind to how her new husband will feel about that. In fact, she's spared him little thought at all.
She shakes her head for herself but gestures to her daughter. Natasha can go a night without food. Her daughter should not. ]
[A mother and child should be fond of one another. If it weren't for that, Frank would think she is a stern, stubborn woman. Did Mr. Rumlow know what he was getting into? He stands up.]
Hold a moment. We're going to have fish.
[At least he and the little girl will. A person can't live on piano. That much he knows. He removes his boots and wades off into the waves. Coming up on this shore close to ten years ago, it is second nature now. The people of the land have taught him many things. They can thrive from next to nothing. It's refreshing to step away from all the trappings and rigid upbringing and pressure society has given. Maybe that is why the lady is here.
A little time passes. He brings two decently sized fish.]
[ Anya gives a delighted gasp at the news and tries to follow him out to the water. She doesn't go in it but she takes his boots in her little hands and bounces at the edge of the waves. ]
Fish! Fish! Fresh fish from the ocean!
[ She runs back over to her mother as he emerges from the water, taking his boots with her as she squeals. ]
[ Natasha had been watching the fire as they talked of Clint. Eventually, her eyes drift out to the ocean. What she can still see of it in the quickly fading light. ]
He was going to teach me how to ride but...He got sick.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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We will leave at dawn when they come back.
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He looks beyond at her face.]
...I don't know how to read. I was told to come and fetch you. I was told to keep you safe. If you stay you will be wet, cold and possibly drowned. None of those things are what your husband asked for.
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They will not leave. That is the end of it.
She then gestures for him to leave, as if dismissing him before turning back to her piano. ]
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I'm staying. I gave my word. That's why I'm here. ...that's why you are here too.
[Frank doesn't budge a muscle from the spot he's chosen to fix himself upon. If the whole world were made of people like them, literally nothing would be done.]
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You made her mad. I told you. She won't leave it.
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At least the child is having a good time. She might be her mother's voice but she's not her mother's mind. How many months must she have been holed up on deck? It's one thing for a sailor, for a grown man or a passenger.]
I understand you want to stay. I understand this is an important piece. If we're to truly stay the night here, at least tell me you know it will not be an easy night.
[Staying is what is called for. So staying he shall. Though why it is her husband chose this span of time to finish business and not see his wife settled is beyond him. Careless. He steps beside the great cased instrument and inspects the boards and nails. Sealed and safe, that much is good.]
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But at his words, Natasha stops her playing once again and looks at him. She gives a nod, she understands. She's always understood how difficult things can be. But her piano is worth the hardship for her. ]
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There we have it then.
[An impasse. If she thought she'd be rid of him then she was sorely wrong. The notes cut the air and paint the afternoon with a kind of magic that this place has never seen. The small lapse to silence brings about how strange this all is. To Frank. To the lady.]
Besides the impossible is there anything you think I can do for you that would make you both more comfortable? I'm... at your disposal, in case you hadn't noticed.
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Anya runs over to him and tugs on his trouser leg. She'll try this again. ]
Can you help me?
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The tugging gets his attention immediately.]
How's that now? What kind of help do you need?
[At least someone wants him here. Sort of.]
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Help me build a sand castle? I have shells to go on it.
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I'll see what I can do. God did not make me a carpenter or an architect. You're destined to be queen just the same. And a queen deserves a castle.
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She misses her father so much and one of her memories consists of him getting down on the floor or ground to play with her.
Night does come in an hour's time and Natasha stops long enough to get a fire started, using what she learned from Clint. It's still hard for her sometimes, her heart aching at the memory of him. She hadn't wanted this new marriage. But how could she disgrace her family by refusing? She sits back on the crate and watches the fire, silent and lost in memories once again. ]
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Are you cold, Ma'am?
[He offers her his coat. The tide is lapping the legs of the piano, creeping closer to Natasha's seat.]
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When Frank asks her that, she shakes her head. She gestures for him to keep his coat. ]
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His brow nits as he slowly starts to put it on.]
Are you hungry?
[Because he can leave them to find something around. Maybe even wade into the waves to try and get a fish.]
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She shakes her head for herself but gestures to her daughter. Natasha can go a night without food. Her daughter should not. ]
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Hold a moment. We're going to have fish.
[At least he and the little girl will. A person can't live on piano. That much he knows. He removes his boots and wades off into the waves. Coming up on this shore close to ten years ago, it is second nature now. The people of the land have taught him many things. They can thrive from next to nothing. It's refreshing to step away from all the trappings and rigid upbringing and pressure society has given. Maybe that is why the lady is here.
A little time passes. He brings two decently sized fish.]
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Fish! Fish! Fresh fish from the ocean!
[ She runs back over to her mother as he emerges from the water, taking his boots with her as she squeals. ]
He got them! He got them!
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And now we've got to fry them up.
[Impaling them first. Frank makes no move to take his boots from the little one. If they make her happy, that's what counts.]
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Who taught you that?
[ Eyes bright like the stars starting to blink into life above them. ]
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[He keeps a wary eye on their dinner as the fire leaps and crackles.]
They have spears, arrows and nets. And sometimes, sometimes they use just their hands.
[Case in point. He gives a nod of thanks to the little one.]
Add some fire and a man will never go hungry.
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My Papa said the same thing. He taught Mommy how to make a fire. How to cook animals. He rode a horse, too. Do you know how to ride a horse?
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[Frank's smile stays warm and gentle.]
I do know how. Right now I don't own one. Do know how to ride, little one?
[He reaches to pull one of the kabobs from the fire to examine it. Soon.]
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[ Natasha had been watching the fire as they talked of Clint. Eventually, her eyes drift out to the ocean. What she can still see of it in the quickly fading light. ]
He was going to teach me how to ride but...He got sick.
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