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Ephraim continued to lead her down the stairs and then he took her to a large hall. It was filled with furniture. Ephraim released her hand and went to touch a table, his fingers playing along the beautifully carved edge.

“I started making furniture.” He began. “I started with small tables, when I sold them I used the money to buy better equipment and made better ones and so I continued. I had to hide my face so people would buy at first and slowly I made a name for myself.”

Darcy stepped inside to take a look at the furniture. She touched the backrest of a chair. It was smooth and seemed to be well built. But his furniture had special carvings that gave them a particular aesthetic.

“I learned about different kinds of wood from my father, some look better, others hold longer and some are easier to work with. The knowledge helped me build strong furniture with pleasing aesthetics,” he explained.

“I can see that,” she said. “They look beautiful.”

“I hired workers over time and my business grew. I got to know some good humans that were accepting of me and some that only cared about money. They invested in my business and we started shipping to other countries. Then I moved on to explore something else and make investments myself.”

“That is impressive,” she said. “And you are truly talented to make these.”

“There is something about building something, creating something that is very… satisfying. The process, all the work, and then you see the finished result…” He looked at one of the dressers he made, touching it delicately, his eyes showing passion, and appreciation. “It feels like an accomplishment.”

“It is,” she said her feet dragging her closer to him.

He looked over and smiled.

“What else did you build?” She asked.

His smile widened. “Well, I built ships,” he said walking over to the exit. She followed him.

“Ships?”

“Yes. The one you use…”

“You built it?!” Her eyes widened as she followed him.

“Not entirely myself, but I created it.”

She nodded. “Do you sell ships as well?”

“I sell many things now,” he replied.

He led her upstairs again. “It might sound impressive but I have lived for a long time,” he reminded. “I had time to learn many things, try and fail several times.”

“It is still impressive,” she said.

They arrived outside a large wooden door. “This is where I like to spend most of my time and learn new things.” He opened the door.

Darcy stepped into a large library. The ceiling was far high up and the tall walls were covered with bookshelves. There was a spiral stair that led to the upper sections of the library.

“Oh wow..” she said looking around. “You like to read?” It was more of a statement than a question. The room spoke for itself.

She walked further in, looking around with fascination. She noticed some of his furniture in certain corners where one could sit and read. The atmosphere was dark and mysterious just like him, but also cozy and warm.

Darcy looked behind but lost Ephraim. Looking around she found him coming to her with an old book. “This is a collection of my… father’s poems. He wrote them for my mother.”

Oh. That was so romantic.

Ephraim looked at it with a bit of happiness and sadness. “It is written in the ancient language,” he said opening it.

“What does it say?” She wondered.

He gazed at her. “It speaks of love.”

Love?

He looked at the pages again and began to translate. “My sleeping dreams, are awakened by you. My heart has become a sheet of flowers, and you are the most beautiful blossom. Your eyes are the passage to my heaven and your dreams are my mission. Your smile the reason I lose my breath, your sorrow worse than a slow death.”

He stopped and looked at her again.

“That is… beautiful,” she breathed.

He closed the pages with a nod.

“Can you write poems?” She asked.

He chuckled. “I tried. It is not a talent of mine but I can do magic for you.” he put the book away on the shelf beside him and walked over.

Darcy smiled as she saw him rub his hands together and then do strange gestures before he pulled a white rose from thin air. Her eyes widened. Ephraim handed her the rose. She touched it. It was real.

“I can’t believe this,” she said shaking her head.

“You remind me of white roses,” he told her.

“I am not this beautiful,” she said, her cheeks flushing.

“You are. And I know you will only grow to be more beautiful.”

“I am damaged. I don’t bloom. I… wither.” That is how she felt.

He looked at her with a gentle smile. “Well, then let me take care of you. Someone told me when a flower doesn’t bloom, it is the environment that needs to be repaired not the flower. There is nothing wrong with you. You just need a good place. I want to provide that for you. Somewhere you can find safety, comfort and happiness.”

He walked closer. “I want to provide you with everything you need and want and what you might need and want when you find out. I want you to blossom. I do not wish to see you sad anymore.”

Darcy’s eyes teared up, her hold on the rose tightening. “You have already done that. I have survived, healed and I even grew to be strong because of you.” She walked closer to him. He did not know how much that had helped her.

It had kept her breathing on days when she felt like suffocating. It made her able to step out into the world, without shaking. To fight back the monsters in her nightmares and stand tall. He had provided her with strength and hope for the better.

Not caring she walked into his arms and he hugged her tightly. Would she ever get used to this feeling?

“Darcy.” He breathed deeply. “I hope to never part from you.” He said. She heard the concern in his voice. “I want you to know and remember that I would never hurt you.”

“I know,” she said with a frown. Why did he suddenly sound so sad? His voice was thickened with pain. Was he perhaps worried she would leave with Russell?

Would she?

If he was her father, would he take her away? Her heart beat nervously because she didn’t know what to do.

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Bonus dedicated to Ivette_M11. Thank you for the supergift <3