Within Temptation©
Chapter Thirty-nine: Ending
By Genevieve Lee

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"If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story."
-Orson Welles

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Holly.
Thirty Years Later.
December 1st.

We make our way silently through the grass as a heavy wind blows through the cemetery. It is positively frigid, and I am extremely thankful for my coat and gloves. The rain that fell the night before has frozen to the blades of grass, and as my boots step on them, they make a loud crunching noise when they break away and fall to the ground. I tread down upon a particularly icy patch and lose my footing and slide a bit, but a hand grips me at the elbow, keeping me from falling face first.

"Easy there," Noah, my younger brother, says as he straightens me out. "You alright?" he asks as he takes my hand and tucks it into the crook of his elbow so he can lead me.

"Yes, fine," I say, grasping onto him as we continue to make our way up the hill.

"Aren't you used to her stumbling about by now, Noah?"

This voice belongs to Noah's not-as-polite twin, Colton, and I glare at him.

"Funny, Colt," I sniff, "but don't I recall you falling flat on your sorry arse—"

"Point taken," he grumbles as he catches up with us, walking on my other side. "What were you day dreaming about, anyways?"

"Christmas," I lie, looking straight ahead as we continue our journey.

"Oh, yes, that is very soon isn't it? How are you celebrating your birthday?"

"I'm not sure," I reply. The truth is that I've barley thought about it. I suppose birthdays are no longer as special when you get older.

"How old are you turning again, Hols? Eighty-seven?"

Colton narrowly escapes a snowball I throw in his direction, and he grins at me candidly.

"I am only turning thirty—"

"Only?"

"—and I'd appreciate it if you would stop making snide comments to me about my age," I bite out, but I cannot help but smile. I find I have missed my little brothers; both annoying and lovable.

Beside me, Noah sighs, his light hair flapping slightly as he does so.

"Honestly," he mutters, "you two are so immature sometimes—"

"Mother used to think it was funny," Colton says with a grin.

"But Father hated it," I mused. "Or at least he pretended to hate it."

"Did you ever notice, Holly, that every time it was his turn to discipline us that he would almost seem proud of the mess we made?"

"Like he was only punishing us because he knew Mother would throw a fit if he didn't?" I finished with a sad smile.

"I noticed that too," Noah says, glancing sideways at us, "and I personally always thought it was completely unfair."

"Why?" Colton snorts. "It's not like you ever got in trouble. You were Mama's little angel."

"Oh, do shut it, you prick!" he replies, looking a little stung by this comment. "I was not a Mama's boy."

I give a light shrug. "I was definitely Father's little girl. There's nothing to be ashamed of, Noah," I soothe, and he seems to stand a little taller.

"Well, what was I?" Colton asks, his unruly hair fluttering as he bounds to catch up with us.

"A royal pain in Mom and Father's arse," I say, earning a small laugh from Noah and a glare from my other brother.

But the truth is that we all had a splendid, if different relationship with our parents. I was the pampered princess, as I was the first child and the only daughter. Father was very protective and Mother was always spoiling me. I think she was secretly pleased that I had been born a girl.

"You're ruining her, Audrey," I remember hearing my father say when I was about four or five.

"Oh, pish-posh," my mother's no-nonsense British accent interrupted him. "I just want her to have the best things, and the best opportunities for her life."

"I want those, too," he had replied, "but we need to start agreeing on some things rather than you just going off and doing whatever you please—"

"I do not just do whatever I want," my mother had said, cutting him off angrily. "You make just as many decisions as I do, so don't even start—"

And on and on and on. My parents actually fought quite often. My father, who was moody and eccentric most of the time, seemed almost exasperated with my high-strung and spirited mother. It was almost as if she could not properly settle down and my father was always left a step behind, struggling to keep up with her. But though they often didn't agree, their arguments were always short, if fiery. They could never stand to be mad at one another for long.

After a few slammed doors and ill-spoken words, they would make up in a short amount of time, but a new disagreement would surely follow soon after.

"Can we take a small break?" I ask, my breath coming out in short bursts of air. "I'm exhausted."

"Of course, Holly," Noah says, helping me to sit down on a bench that stands near the many tombstones we are passing.

But of course Colton has to make a big show of sighing and looking mournfully down at me. "At this rate we'll never get there."

I glare at him, taking the small bottle of water that Noah offers me. "I'll tell you what, Colt. Next time you are seven months pregnant and hiking up a hill in the freezing cold, we won't stop and we shall see how tired you are."

But Colton misses my reference, and cocks his head slightly. "Pregnant? Me?"

Noah sighs, and plays our mediator as usual. "What our sister is trying to say, Colton, is that as she is seven months pregnant, she is fatigued and would like a moment to rest."

I give a closed-mouth smile to my brother and say, "Thank you, Noah." I open the bottle and take a sip, offering it to each of my brothers who, in turn, refuse with a shake of their heads. I seal the cap back on and look up at the drab and barren trees around us, remembering a time many, many years ago.

I was eight, and Mama had been teaching me to ride her horse, Blackbird, under Father's supervision of course. For some reason, he never trusted her alone with it.

I was not allowed on Blackbird by myself yet, and as we walked out to the stables, I became impatient as my mother slowly strolled, my hand in hers.

"Hurry, Mama, hurry," I had said, trying to tug away from her, but she jerked my arm, bringing me closer to her.

"You know the rules, Holly. You are not to leave our sides when we are in the stables," she had said severely, and I saw my father watching us from the corner of his eyes. He probably thought I was going to try to bolt and he would have to run after me, as it had happened before. But I knew that look, and so I stayed put, though the slow pace we were walking at was driving me positively mad.

But finally, we reached the stable and Papa saddled Blackbird and led him outside. After handing me up into the saddle, he went to help my mother, who gave a light shake of her head and stood back.

"Erik, dear, perhaps you should ride with her today."

"I wouldn't mind doing so," he had mused aloud, before looking back at my mother. "But you always love to ride with Holly. Are you well?"

She had given a wide grin, nodding before saying, "I am fine, Erik, it's just I do not think I should ride, given my condition."

I had sighed, shifting impatiently on the horse.

"Condition…?" my father had repeated slowly, looking at my mother in wonder.

A slight pause had made him lean closer towards her, completely baited in before she said, "I am pregnant again, Erik."

For the next few minutes, they were all smiles and kisses and I still sat on Blackbird, a few feet away, and completely unhappy. My mother was going to have another baby? Did that mean that they would they love me less? Would I get to keep everything I had now? Was I going to have to share all my possessions, or worse, give up my room?

These questions bestowed grief upon me, and as my parents were paying no attention to me, I grabbed the reins and took off flying across the yard and into the trees, looking for solace. I ignored the calls from my parents to come back.

When I finally felt I was far away enough, I pulled the horse to a stop and dismounted. He knew better than to wander off, and so I had not bothered tying him down. Instead, I picked up a rock and threw it angrily at a nearby tree.

"It's not fair," I screamed. "Why do they want another baby? They already have me!" I then sat on a rock with my knees pulled up to my chest and cried mournfully into them. I just knew my life was ruined.

This was how my father found me, ten minutes later. I heard another horse approach, but I didn't look up.

"My dear Holly," I heard my father say before I was scooped into his arms, where he cradled me gently.

"Why are you going to have another baby?" I sobbed. "Aren't I good enough for you both? I thought you loved me."

"Oh, dearest," he said, sitting on a rock and forcing me to look up at him once I was positioned in his lap. "Is that what this is about? Do you think we will love you less because there is going to be another child in the house?"

I had nodded despondently, wiping away my tears with misery etched all over my face.

"Holly, I want you to listen to me closely." And although I did not want to, my father's beautiful and soothing voice calmed me and I looked at him wide-eyed, almost without choice. "Just because your mother and I are having another baby does not mean we will stop loving you. You are our first child, and you will always have a special place in mine and your mother's heart. Understand?"

Feeling slightly reassured, I nodded slowly before saying, "But does it have to come so soon? Will it be there when we get home?"

Father had laughed, sweeping me into his arms again before saying, "No, little one, he or she will be here a couple of months after Christmas."

Although I had felt better, I was still apprehensive when my mother gave birth seven months later to the twins. I remember being so angry with my father when I learned that my mother had given birth to two babies.

"But there was only supposed to be one more!" I had shouted. "You lied to me!"

"Holly," my father said, strained, "we cannot control these things. We thought it was going to be one until quite recently. Now would you like to come see your new baby brothers?"

"Brothers?" I shrieked. "They're both boys? I don't even get a sister?"

My father chose to ignore that comment, and led me to my mother's bedroom, where she lay, sound asleep, on her bed. My father put a finger to his lips, which were visible since he was not wearing his mask at that moment, indicating silence. I had become quite used to my father's face at that point, which had been introduced to me at an early age.

When I was three, my mother had explained delicately that my father was not born with a normal face and that it had caused him much pain in his life. She then had my father, who was trembling, come into the room to show me what he truly looked liked.

"I do not want to frighten her, Audrey. She is only a child," he had whispered brokenly, but my mother had a steely expression on, and had removed the mask slowly.

Though shocked at first, I had quickly learned to accept it as his regular face and he seldom wore his mask anymore, except when there was company. The only people who visited though were my aunts, including my mother's two sisters and a couple of her friends, and their husbands, my uncles. He sometimes went maskless if it was just his dearest friend, Nadir, but that was about it.

But when I first looked down at my brothers in their crib, I could not help but wrinkle my nose in disdain. They were shrunken and red, and looked nothing like a normal person should.

"Papa," I had said, reaching down to touch one of them. "They look so strange."

"Well that's because they were just born, my heart," he whispered, bending down next to me.

"What are their names?" I asked curiously, wanting to know what to call these bizarre and foreign creatures.

"This one, here," Father said, touching the one on the left, "is Noah William, and the other is Colton Drake."

"How come they get two names?" I sniffed.

"You have two names as well, Holly Rae."

"Oh," I had brilliantly replied, but was soon ushered out of the room so that my mother and the boys could rest. And that's what they were from then on out: the boys.

I don't think I began liking them until I could actually play with them. It was fun watching their personalities shape individually. Colton lived up to his stronger name and had a more prominent personality. He was the one more likely to get into trouble, and he was also my sidekick in anything I wanted done. Noah, on the other hand, was much like father in the way that he was reserved and loved music.

From an early age, Papa had recognized that in him and had taught him to play any instrument he could get his hands on. Noah could be temperamental and antisocial sometimes, but most of the time he was friendly and liked to be around us.

As for Colton, he was immediately attracted to anything outside, always exploring and climbing and hiking. He was more like Mother in the way that he was adventurous. It was no surprise to any of us when he joined the armed forces when he was eighteen in order to see the world.

I fell somewhere in the middle of them. I could be daring in the way Noah was not, but was often held back by Papa who treated me like a delicate flower. I was, therefore, forced to outlet my energy into other things, which was usually painting. My mother was thrilled with this, and always kept me supplied with whatever I wanted. She and I would often go out riding for an entire day to a beautiful site where we would picnic and I would paint.

I had even once painted a striking family portrait when I was sixteen, arranging us to show how we looked like one another in a way.

For example, I have my mother's soft facial features, but my father's dark hair, though his was not the brilliant raven color it had been in his youth anymore. I also have my mother's blue eyes and petite body.

My brothers, on the other hand, look a lot more like our mother. They both have messy blonde hair, but our father's strong jaw. Both are tall and wiry, much like Papa, though Colton has more muscle due to his living. Their eyes are also the eerie yellow color of our father's, which is set off brilliantly by their golden hair. Though they look the same, they are also somehow different. I can look into Noah's eyes and see his depth and intelligence, but I can look into Colton's and see his mischievous nature and playfulness.

"About ready?" Colton asks, interrupting my reminiscing.

"Yes," I reply, and with my brothers' help, get back to my feet, to which we continue our progress up the hill.

"I won't bloody come here again until I've had this baby," I grumble as I waddle beside Colton and Noah, both assisting me with an arm.

"Is your family excited about the newest addition to your family?" Noah asks, looking at me curiously.

"Yes they are," I reply. "Austin couldn't be more thrilled," I say, referring to my husband. "Cody and Natalie are eager as well."

"How cordial of your children not to have any ill feelings towards their new brother or sister on the way," Colton teases me and I groan.

"I will forever regret telling you that story!" I had told him of my breakdown before his and Noah's birth a few months ago, and he hasn't let me forget it.

"She grew to love us," Noah says with a small smile and I nod in agreement.

"That is right, even though you can irritate me more than anyone on Earth. Well, at least you can, Colton."

"Hilarious, Holly," he says, and we make the rest of the journey in silence. It takes another ten minutes, but finally, we are there in that familiar clearing. Two years ago, Mother was making the trek with us to visit Father's graveside, but now she has joined him.

We all three stare respectively down at the tombstones engraved with our parent's names, the only thing left of them now. Tears sting my eyes as I reach a hand out to smooth it over the top of the stone.

"I miss them," I whisper.

Colton surprises me by putting an arm around my shoulders and pulling me to him. "I do too," he says.

I look at Noah who is silent. He took our parent's deaths particularly hard, as he is the most emotional. I reach out and wrap my arms around his waist and pull him to us, forcing him to join our small huddle.

"They lived a good life, Mom and Papa did," I say, reassuring my younger brothers, but in turn, myself as well.

But I wish more than anything my parents were here to help welcome my third child, Noah's first, and see Colton get married, a feat we had all seriously doubted would happen but he surprised us all with the news of his engagement a couple of weeks back. And with Noah's wife three months pregnant, it was sure to be an eventful year. Their absence will be well noted.

I shiver, for it is miserably cold and bitter, and my brothers, taking note of this, agree it is too cold to stay outside, especially in my condition. I grudgingly agree, and let them pull me away from where my parents had been laid to rest, six years ago in my father's case, and two years ago in my mother's.

"Besides," Colton says as we begin our descent away from the cemetery, "Uncle Nadir is expecting us for dinner, and I bet Aunt Dana has prepared a feast!"

And so we walk together, arms entwined, away from the people who created, cared, and loved us for as long as they could. Death was unwilling to keep them parted for long, and although my heart is in a constant ache for them, I am glad they have been joined in Heaven, once again. I cannot be selfish and wish my mother was still here with us, because wherever she is, I know she is with my father, which, ultimately, is the place where she belongs.

fin.

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Genny's Note: Wow! What a journey this story has been for me. I am so sad to see that it is over, but I am so excited to move on with my new story! As for when that will be appearing, it will just depend on when I believe I am far enough into it that I can begin posting, so keep your eyes open! I may even post a small preview of it after this chapter in the next few weeks, so keep watch on your story updates!

Also, I have been considering writing a small companion piece to this with different scenes from Holly, Colton, and Noah's childhood. I thought that it may be fun to write, and in turn, fun for you guys to read. What do you think?

And thank you so much for all of your support. Thank you to anyone who reviewed or put this story on their alerts or favorites. I hope you had just as much enjoyment reading it as I did writing it.

Until Interim,
Genny

Final Note: Before anyone asks, I did mean for this chapter to be in present tense instead of the past tense that the rest of the story was in. I was looking for an added effect on the epilogue, and the different time-tense adds to it.