Nothing is Ever Forgotten, Not Completely [Roslyn]

[Deleted]

Sir Iwan d'Auber opened his eyes to find himself in a room he had no recollection of. He sat up, which in hindsight was a particularly painful mistake. Every part of him was aching, especially his head, but he had no idea why. He frowned and rubbed the edge of his palm against his eye. He couldn't remember how he'd got here. Panic rushed through him. He couldn't remember anything. What was his name? What was he doing in this room? How did he end up with cuts and bruises and his arm in a sling? He took a deep breath and tried to focus. There had to be some sort of explanation for this and he was going to work it out. Hmm. Well, he seemed to be quite logical. That was something. Now he just needed to work out everything else. He pushed the covers off him and shifted so he was sat on the edge of the bed, bare feet firmly on the floor. His thumbs were pressing into the tips of his fingers, nails digging in almost painfully. He just had to take things slowly and not panic and somehow, eventually, everything would make sense.

After a few moments he stood up, albeit slowly, awkwardly and painfully. The room he was in didn't seem terribly hostile. If anything it seemed warm and welcoming and lived in. Did he live here? Was this his room? In his home? The furnishings were mainly simple but well made and there were a few more elaborate ornaments. He had some money then? He walked slowly over to the dresser only to find disappointment. Sat on the wooden dresser was an ornate jewelry box. This wasn't his room after all. But then that begged the question as to why he found himself in a woman's bedroom. Oh Jesu. He was a cad. That was the only possible explanation. He was a confused and injured cad, but a complete one nonetheless. Why else would he be waking up in a woman's bed? She was probably downstairs waiting for him to wake up and continue his caddish business.

The panic was starting to return and he could feel his breath quicken, his mind was racing and he wanted to be anywhere but here, in this room, completely alone with absolutely no idea who he was or how he'd got there. Was this some sort of reaction to drink? Maybe he'd been in a fight last night - that's why he was injured. Oh. So he'd been drunk last night, so drunk he couldn't remember anything, and he'd got into a fight and found himself in some random woman's bed. What was his father going to say about any of this? Did he even have a father? His father could be dead for all he knew, and he was dealing with it by getting drunk and forgetting everything.

He was getting worked up again, which, while being understandable, was not helping the situation at all. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hoping to steady his nerves. He had to try to work out where he was. With a new found determination he headed over to the cupboard, pulled the door open and wanted to punch himself in the face. There were men's clothes in the cupboard. Men's clothes. Whoever this woman was she had a husband. He'd stayed in the bed of a married woman. Oh he was going to hell.


Tagged: Lady Roslyn d'Auber
Location: The d'Auber Estate
Timeline: Shortly after s5 finale

[Lady Roslyn]

The day was going by quite like the last two had. She had checked on Iwan this morning, and yet there had been no change; he was still unconscious. Roslyn was thinking of sending for the physician later, just to see whether there was anything that he could do to bring Iwan out of this state. She had been tending him, and had spent a lot of time by his bedside, just speaking to him, and trying to coax him out of his condition. Nothing had worked so far. Roslyn bit her lip, and scooped her son out of his crib; Edmund was taking a nap, and so she only had the baby to worry about at the moment; her son was only days old. The baby was settled, and was comfortable in her arms. “Shall we go and check on your father?” She asked her son, who just nuzzled into her embrace as means of an answer. She smiled and began to walk across to hers and Iwan’s bedroom. Of course she hadn’t been sleeping in there; she had just been sleeping in the spare room while Iwan recovered.

Roslyn, with the baby in her arms, pushed the door to hers and Iwan’s room open softly, and slowly, so she could check on her husband. She was to send for the physician the moment Iwan showed any change, which could be any time really, so she had to keep checking. She looked up as she entered the room, and nearly screamed with the shock that Iwan was up, and walking round, “What on earth are you doing out of bed?” She asked him with wide eyes; what was he thinking? She knew that Iwan was determined, but even he had to realise the extent to his injuries, and that right now he needed rest. The baby stirred in her arms, and once she had gotten over the initial shock of him being more than a breathing corpse on the bed, her face broke out into a wide smile. He was alright! The shock of seeing him up and about had taken away from that amazing fact. There was no reason for her to worry now about him not waking up, because he was just fine.

Looking down at the baby, then to Iwan, she smiled again at him, expecting some kind of reaction, but was rewarded with nothing. She took another step closer to her husband, and lowered the baby a little, to show him the little being. This was their second son, and she was so relieved that she had given him another boy. Perhaps next she would pray for a daughter, to complete their little family. “We have another son, Iwan.” She was beaming, full of nothing but happiness, “I haven’t named him yet; I wanted us to do that together.” Was that why he wasn’t reacting to her? Because at the moment it felt like she was just speaking to herself. The baby cried out a little, and she walked to her husband’s side. She wondered if he was upset that he had missed the birth. It wasn’t exactly something that she could understand in a way, because if she didn’t have to be there, she wouldn’t have chosen to be. This baby had been bigger than Edmund, and more painful to deliver; the midwives had done their best to keep her calm, but as she hadn’t known what fate had befallen Iwan at that point either. It hadn’t been the easiest of times for her, but she had got past it, and while she was still supposed to be recovering from the birth, she had a household to run here.

She smiled up at Iwan, who still hadn’t given her a reaction, and put one arm around him, as she was carrying the baby in her other arm, “I thought something had happened to you.” She squeezed him a little, before drawing back with a confused expression on her face. Roslyn bit the inside of her mouth; she had heard of men being changed by war, but this was something else altogether, “Iwan?” She said softly, “Is there something wrong?” Her voice was tentative, and her posture had stiffened.

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Iwan simply stared at the woman for what seemed to him like an eternity but was probably less than a minute. He had hoped that some sort of recognition would come to him, that he'd suddenly remember what on earth was going on but his mind was drawing a complete blank. He was obviously supposed to know her, that much was obvious, yet nothing was coming to him. He opened his mouth to speak - not entirely sure what he was going to say - before his eyes were drawn to the small baby in her arms. Was any of this supposed to mean something? And why the hell couldn't he remember anything? After a second or two, he closed his mouth again, lips firmly pressed together. If he kept quiet maybe she would continue and hopefully say something that would tell him something about what was happening.

She started walking towards him, which was making Iwan a little uncomfortable to say the least. His first reaction was to step back, to try to keep as much distance between them as possible but something kept him from moving. His feet were stuck solidly to the ground. It was odd, he was sure there was something vaguely familiar about the woman, he just had no idea what. Her next words certainly did not help matters.

He stared at her, mouth slightly open, nothing but confusion on his features. Firstly, how did she know his name, secondly, why on earth was she under the impression that the baby was...their son...? Was she insane? He might not be able to remember where he was, or how he'd got here, but surely he would remember being a father? This was absurd. It was some strange dream. Gwaine had probably spiked his drink or something- wait. Gwaine. He remembered something, someone. Right...so surely he couldn't know this woman? If he could remember someone he actively disliked it was highly unlikely he'd forget someone he was supposed to have a son with?

This time he did take a step back, only one or two, but it was enough to make him feel slightly more comfortable now that there was some distance between the two of them. He seemed to find his voice as well. "I don't know who you think I am, but this is not my son." Both thumbs started rubbing against his index fingers. He had to somehow get out of this room, find someone who actually knew him and who could explain everything. He found himself almost laughing at her next words. She thought something had happened to him? Was this only just seeming likely? The woman was an idiot, a deluded idiot. He folded his arms rather defensively across his chest. "What are you talking about? Who are you?"