Inspirational Song:

I Dreamt I Dwelt In Marble Halls (Irish folk song)

- by M. W. Balfe (1808-1870).

I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls,
With vassals and serfs at my side,
And of all who assembled within those walls,
That I was the hope and the pride.
I had riches too great to count
Could boast of a high ancestral name;
But I also dreamt, which pleased me most,
That you lov'd me still the same
That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same,
That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same.

I dreamt that suitors sought my hand;
That knights upon bended knee,
And with vows no maiden heart could withstand
They pledg'd their faith to me;
And I dreamt that one of that noble host
Came forth my hand to claim.
But I also dreamt, which pleased me most,
That you lov'd me still the same
That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same,
That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same.

Two men rode casually through the woods. They didn't look much alike. There was some resemblance about the jaw, and if you knew them, in the stubborn implacability of their characters, but otherwise, you might not guess they were related.

In fact, the son's looks took after his mother a great deal, instead of his father.

Wyatt couldn't help but smile a little at his son. Jeb had grown up to become a fine man. In his head, Wyatt sent a little prayer of thanks to his late wife. Though she'd raised Jeb alone, the boy had become everything either of his parent's could have hoped.

Today, just a few short weeks after the Eclipse and the downfall of the Wicked Witch, the Cain men had taken the time to just ride out together. Ostensibly, they were on patrol, but the O.Z. was falling into line much quicker than anyone could have guessed, and threat to the Royal Family, particularly here in their southern seat of Finacqua, was minimal.

So the two men rode leisurely, Jeb telling his father all the tales of his life since the family had been torn apart by the Witch's Longcoats.

After Wyatt had been imprisoned, Adora and Jed had not been executed, as Wyatt had thought. Zero had sent them to a work house in Central City. He visited often, to gloat over them. Once, long ago, Wyatt and Adora and Zero had grown up together. Wyatt and Zero had always been something of rivals, but it wasn't until Wyatt had gone to the Academy to become a Tin Man that their half-friendly rivalry had turned ugly. Zero had not been accepted to attend the prestigious Academy in Central City. Then Wyatt and Adora married, just as the Witch was starting to gain power. Before long, Zero had thrown his lot in with the Witch, and become even more bitter and dark, drunk on power and cruelty. He relished the assignment to imprison Wyatt, who'd in turn become a major commander of the Resistance. Zero then took dark pleasure in Adora's pleas and tears. For three years, he let her beg for Wyatt's release. Then finally, he informed her that Wyatt Cain was dead.

Jeb smiled as he told his father that Zero's announcement did not have the intended result of breaking Adora Cain. The very next night, Adora spirited herself and her son out of the work house, and out of Central City. Before long, they were bouncing from safe house to safe house. At first, Jeb had thought they were on the run, but he eventually realized that his mother acted as a courier for the Resistance. Adora Cain protected her son, and passed valuable information from cell to cell, helping coordinate the Resistance's efforts.

But then, she got sick. An illness of the lungs stole her breath, and gave her a hoarse dry cough. Sometimes, she coughed up blood, and they'd have to wait days until she was recovered enough to move on. Jeb took over most of her Resistance work, until finally he accidentally drew too much attention to himself. Jeb and Adora fled southward, crossing the Crack and escaping to the little cabin.

Jeb explained to Wyatt that Adora was already dying the day Longcoats caught up to them. It wasn't Zero, and Adora wasn't their target, but she tried to fight them to protect her son, and she ended up falling down dead, her exertions causing her lungs to fill with blood. She'd drowned. Jed spent four days in the Tin Suit, staring at his mother's body, before several southern Resistance fighters found him. They freed him, and helped him bury his mother.

Wyatt was silent, listening to Jeb's tales. Things might have been so different for their family. But he couldn't help but be proud of his son, and his late wife.

By this time, Jeb had heard all about his father's adventures with the younger Princess. Wyatt didn't speak much about the annuals wasted in the Tin Suit, but Jeb understood that. He'd tasted that punishment himself, and was privately amazed at how sane his father remained despite the annuals of mental torture. He himself had broken down fairly quickly. Any more time trapped, and Jeb Cain would have been a broken man.

Still, Jeb remembered the bright laughing giant that was his father in Jeb's childhood. Wyatt Cain hadn't had such a grim sharp edge during Jeb's youth. It made Jeb wish to turn back time. His memories, plus the stories his mother had told, didn't match with the silence and steely attitude that characterized Wyatt Cain now.

Only one thing seemed to make Jeb's father brighten these days: Princess Dorothigale of the House of Gale.

Jeb had been commanding men and women for the past two years, since his mother died. He knew how to read people. And he knew what he was seeing in his father. Wanting to help, after a few minutes of companionable silence, he spoke.

"I want to tell you something, but… you have to promise not to get upset."

Wyatt turned to his son, simply raising a brow. At Jeb's stubborn expression, he finally replied, "I promise I won't get upset."

Jeb hesitated, then said, "You gotta remember, you were dead. Or at least, we thought you were."

"Jeb, if this is about not coming back to check, I already told you–"

"No," Jeb interrupted. "That's not it. But a little over a year after we ran from Central City, Mom…. well, she took up with a fellow."

Dead silence greeted that pronouncement.

Swallowing nervously, Jeb went on. "I mean, like I said, she thought you were dead, and she mourned a long time, but then she met Paul, and he was a good man, ran a safe house." He shifted; his horse pranced a little, picking up on his nervousness, and he soothed the animal before continuing. "She always said she loved you, and I never heard her say she loved him, but she knew we had to move on with our lives." Jeb glanced at his father, but couldn't see his face. The older man had dropped his chin, letting the hat cast a shadow and hide his expression.

Jeb waited, but the silence went on. Finally, Jeb said, "Don't be mad at her."

"I'm not," Wyatt answered grimly. "She had to do right by her." He shot his son a sidelong glance, but Jeb couldn't tell what he was feeling. "I suppose you'll tell me this Paul fellow was like a father to you?" There, some bitterness leaked out.

"No! Not at all. I was too old and full of myself then to take much parental type attitude from anyone but Mom. Plus, we left that safe house after I screwed up. I'm pretty sure he's dead now too." Jeb shook his head. "Anyway, I did have a point to telling you this."

With a smirk that was entirely humorless, Wyatt asked, "What's that?"

Jeb straightened his shoulders. If anything, his next words could definitely be considered crossing a line with his father. "My point is that you shouldn't keep living in the past either. You have to move forward."

His father drew his horse to a halt and stared at Jeb. Jeb reined in and met his father's shocked and angry gaze bravely. "I'm just saying, she's gone, and I know it hurts, but it looks to me like you still wanna kill someone over it. You've gotta let it go. She wouldn't want you to keep beating yourself up over it, and plus, if you've got a chance at some happiness now, she'd want you to take it." Wyatt's eyes simply narrowed. Jeb decided he might as well shove his whole foot in it. "I've seen how you look at the Princess when you think no one's watching. Does she know how you feel?"

Had he been any other person in the O.Z., Jeb suspected his father would have gotten off his horse and punched him in the mouth, judging from Wyatt's expression. Instead, the former Tin Man simply reined his horse around and kicked it. The startled animal leaped into a canter, and Jeb had to urge his own mount to catch up.

"Hey! Hang on!" Wyatt ignored him, until Jeb yelled, "Dad!" in a frustrated voice. Then Wyatt pulled up and let Jeb catch him.

"I can see it, Dad," Jeb explained immediately, heading off whatever scolding Wyatt had had in mind. "You're not the same anymore, and I know it's because of the suit. Whatever you did to stay sane, it changed you. And the only times I see you act like you used to, like before, when we were all happy, is when you're with DG. And I'm trying to tell you, I understand, I'm alright with it, and Mom would be too." Jeb sighed, loosing his momentum. "I'm glad you're alive, I'm glad we survived. And now, we all have the right to be happy. I guess I'm trying to say… if DG makes you happy, you should go for it."

For a long time, his father didn't say anything. Then, just as Jeb thought maybe he'd completely misjudged the man who used to be his father, Wyatt muttered, "When did you get so smart?" He didn't look up, and Jeb realized that Wyatt was staring at his wedding ring, still on his left hand. "And since when do sons give their fathers advice?"

Jeb smirked, the expression entirely inherited from Wyatt. "I don't know. But it's good advice, anyway."

Wyatt sighed heavily. "So it is. Come on, let's head back." After a few moments, Wyatt suddenly continued. "She doesn't know. Got any advice what I should do about that?"

Jeb grinned. "You're going to have to court her. Better ask her father for permission."

Wyatt groaned as his son chuckled.

TBC