[[ Again, written before the war. I felt that Evangeline had a lot of things that she needed to say, and was running out of opportunities to say so – to tell her story.
And I found it on my computer whilst trawling through sorting things into folders so I thought I’d post it. ]]
To the lovely Lucy Lucan.
If you are reading this, then I am really sorry but I have not made it through the war. If I do not make it through the war, then I hope I met my end doing something heroic so that maybe I might be remembered in high regard.
I love you Lucy, in much a similar way to that of which I love your father. I am happy that the both of you, and Helena, can be a family together, until the end of all eternity. He needs you, he needs you to look after him Lucy. Though he may find it hard to show it, he needs you more than anything. I am not here to keep him safe anymore darling, so I entrust you to do so.
I had a daughter once. She was called Lucy too. I dream of her sometimes, thinking what she might be like. The way she looks, the way she smells, the sound of her voice. When she was born, I looked upon the little life that I had created with complete awe. I held her tiny body in my hands, and would just stare at her for hours on end. I’d stay up late into the night just to hear her breathing. I wanted nothing more than to protect her forever.
But I did not live in a very nice place, and it was not a good time for children to be born. I was young (a little younger than the age your Father was when you were born) but the time was cold, and my room was damp. One morning, I woke up and she wasn’t breathing. She was cold. What had I done to deserve losing her? And I asked myself again and again, night after day after night after wretched day. I shed many tears over her. But nothing more could be done. I know why you Father fights so hard to protect you – it’s instinctive to fight with your life to save someone you love. I didn’t have that, my darling Lucy just slipped away from me.
I have been a kindred for a very long time Lucy. I was sired and then left, as is gangrel tradition. But I did not want to give that burden to someone else. And I had not wanted to sire for all of those lonely years that I have spent in London. That was until a Miss Elenor Rose introduced me to your Father. And that was when I knew. I have two children, though had things been different then I would have much liked Merris to be my one and only childe. But perhaps if he was, then I might not have met you.
You are beautiful Lucy. Beautiful and bright. If my Lucy was as beautiful as you then I would have been a proud Mother, as proud as your Father is of you.
All of my love in this difficult time.