Wildflowers | Alec Volturi

douze

"She always had a reason for doing something, never without cause."

Robyn didn't get far before she was confronted once again. 

Or rather, she was accosted by her Father as she marched with a temper toward her home with every intention of throwing it all to the wind somehow kidnapping Alec and Jane, and running off to only the Lord knows where. 

He was always quick in doing so, whenever he was capable, and Robyn knew that there was some sort of extra intelligence to him that drove his actions this time, this sense that made sure that he grabbed her before anyone else could see -- not that it would matter -- and lead her away for a private chat. 

Her instincts told her that he knew, somehow, of her plans, but she simply could not understand how that came to be. It was a marvel that he was even around for others to see and not hanging about mourning the loss of his beloved church. 

Robyn, at least, pitied him that for it was a symbol of his faith, his place to care for that was burned down with him standing within unable to do a thing to assist him. It was sad for all, but none more than her Father that, when not with his pants around his ankles, was dwelling within doing what he believed to be the word of the Lord for our village. 

Father bled and lived for the church, poured himself into each loving caress that he laid upon the wood that filled him with false righteousness and love.

And the embarrassment, the mortification. Robyn truly did feel for her father and his loss. 

They stopped in a small corner, in front of their abandoned house as most of the workers available to lend a hand were set to begin clearing out the remains as they set about erecting a new church building. 

In her mind, it seemed a fitting place for any confrontation to take place. It was a reminder of everything that had burned away with her all that time ago, the forgotten fragments of a girl that was now changed for the better -- a young woman that was brave and determined to no longer allow others to force her about and wield her like some object. 

"Tell me that my intuition is correct, daughter, tell me that you wish to flee with that boy and his sister," he stresses, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders. "Do not lie to me now, daughter, speak only truth." 

Startled by how easily he was taking her entire plan, she swallows thickly and nods. "I am. You are enraged by this?"

He chuckles mirthlessly. "My daughter, I am relieved. There are foul plans afoot here that I find myself no longer at the mercy of preventing." 

"What do you mean?" she asks hurriedly. 

"I fear that they plan to set forth a witchhunt, Robyn. The people are angry for the church and wish to place the blame onto them. They no longer heed my judgment." 

Robyn blanches, breath seizing as she stares at his face blindly in disbelief. They would stoop to something as unholy as a witchhunt... There resolve was set if rumours were left to float about with such untempered freedom. 

Her father had gone to extreme lengths to convince them to leave such judgement to God instead of outright murdering two people that have done nothing wrong and who have never hurt another soul in their entire lives. 

"What are you talking about? When did you hear this?" she asks, voice shaking as she speaks. 

"I hear it in passing whispers as I walk through the village roads. There is someone that aims to make keep me from knowing of their plots." 

"They have always been miserable at keeping quiet," she mutters bitterly. "What are we to do then, Father? I will not allow any harm to come to them."