In This Pain There Is Healing

[Anthony Bridgerton]

Tag: lennie1

Note: Better layout coming soon! Hope the post is ok! Let me know if you'd like me to edit anything; I'm still working on getting inside his head haha!

i will

ALWAYS PROTECT YOU

Anthony's eyes intently watched each hand move it's way as it always did. Gaze so intent as if it was something he had never seen before. Though he stared, his mind filled with the memories of it's significance. Especially today. For it marked an important day in the Bridgerton history. His father's birthday. Memories of each years festivities distracted the eldest Bridgerton from the incomplete paperwork set upon the desk of his study. Memories forever etched in his mind; bittersweet. For it reminded him of the pain of Edmund's loss each year.

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A pain so keenly felt. Anthony, just as his other siblings who had precious time with him . . . had been close to Edmund. A family such as theirs was not entirely common. They adored each other. Fought with one another, yes of course. But they truly loved one another. Sitting at the dinner table together, sharing laughter and joys. Sorrows and fears. Anthony knew that he could never fulfil the role that his father had and meet the expectations of an heir. A day such as today, just reminded him of how much he missed him. How he longed for his guidance and advice. Feelings within him that he had perhaps not even properly addressed throughout the past decade. Nor ones that he was prepared to expose.

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Closing the cover of the precious item, Anthony casually looked up to see Hyacinth. Had Anthony not been so composed, perhaps he would have jolted from being startled at the unexpected site. "Hyacinth," he acknowledged, unsure of how long she had even been standing there. Just as unsure as how long he had been staring at the watch. "Should you not be in bed at this hour?" His way of asking if everything was and why wasn't she asleep at what he assumed was late. Ironic . . . considering he had been looking at the watch and did not even know what time it currently was.

[lennie1]

Hyacinth Bridgerton never met her father but she would argue fiercely against anyone who said she never knew him. She knew him through the love in her mother's eyes, the way her siblings played with her, taking her on long walks at Aubrey Hall because that was what their father had done with them, recognised the similarities from the portraits in herself and her siblings. So sure, Hyacinth never met Edmund Bridgerton, but she knew him through her family and she missed him.

Especially today, her father's birthday was always a somber affair. In a house that never seemed to be quiet it had been deafening since the sun rose. Hyacinth understood a lot of families weren't like hers, not full of so much love it could become overbearing at times, not that she would ever complain. Despite social standings her mother had always insisted on one thing first and foremost - they were a family. On days like this, when her siblings and mother, even some of the staff, remembered the late Viscount Hyacinth could only watch, not recollect memories of her own, so she focused on her family, on remembering through them.

The day was easier than the evening. She could look after her family in the day time, she had held her mother's hand in the drawing room as they had tea. She complimented her sister on playing what she was told was their father's favourite melody on the pianoforte. Now, in the evening, when the maid helping her brush her chestnut hair had left and Hyacinth sat in the middle of a large bed it was much harder. Thoughts of insecurities that Edmund Bridgerton had never been around to push away swimming in her mind and Hyacinth twisted around, a grimace etched upon her features. Today she had been on her best behaviour yes, but only yesterday she had purposefully spilt her lemonade down Gregory's back and pushed him after he dropped her ribbons in a puddle.

Swinging her legs out of bed her tongue poking out between her lips in concentration Hyacinth lowered her feet onto the floor. She knew the house like the back of her hand, every creaking floorboard and which doors would hiss in protest if she tried opening them. Sneaking into the corridor, past the other bedchambers and down the large stairs she instinctively glanced towards the study. The door was closed, but a light bled through from beneath the door and Hyacinth moved instantly, pushing the door open as her brother looked up.

Hyacinth whimpered. This time not carefully taking any careful steps to avoid creaking floorboards as she launched herself into her eldest brother's chest, arms wrapping around his waist as a small sob escaped her. "Would he have been disappointed in me?" Her voice was small, a light whisper cutting through the silence of the study.

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[Anthony Bridgerton]

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ALWAYS PROTECT YOU

Hyacinth did not respond with words, but her actions spoke much louder. She wrapped her arms around his waist, nestling against his chest as he heard her sob. His arms immediately engulfed around her, gently holding her close to him. To hear the sound of sadness, made his heart ache. The intense need to protect his family so strongly ingrained within him . . . often mixed with the pain of knowing his failures in doing so. He knew he could not protect them from everything. But despite what he knew to be rational, he would fight damn hard to try. And Hyacinth, the youngest of them all would perhaps be the one he would try to protect the most.

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Her words only added to the ache in his own heart, hearing her speak of their father and whether he would have been disappointed in her. The pain of losing someone they knew versus the pain of losing someone who they didn't know. But either way, it was someone loved. Which pain was worse? One could never be quite sure. All he knew in this moment was that his dear sister was hurting, and he would do anything, and give anything to ease that pain and take it all upon himself so that she would not have to endure it.

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Her words demanded answer. Ones that Anthony could speak with the utmost, fervent truth. "Not in the slightest." His words holding no doubt; no uncertainty. Because, he was indeed certain. Edmund would never be disappointed in her. Anthony moved one hand to gently stroke the back of her head in a soothing, nurturing manner. "He would have been so proud of you," he told her, voice filled with sincerity. Yet her question, often filled his own mind as well . . . though about himself. Would Edmund have been disappointed in him?

[lennie1]

Hyacinth knew, of course, that Anthony wasn't her father, but for all intents and purposes he had been forced to play the role nonetheless. Through her entire life Anthony had been her protector, had been the one to teach her things a father should've taught her, things their father had had time to teach her siblings. But as he wrapped her up in a warm embrace, cradling her against his chest as she cried it was perhaps the most important role in her life he had been forced to take on at play - her protector.

"Thank you," she murmured.

They all dealt with this day in different ways and for Hyacinth it had always been easier to cope by embracing her family, by showering them in her love and affections. No one had ever tried to claim she didn't miss their father any less than they did simply because Hyacinth never met him. She missed him differently, but she missed him even so.

But it was her who needed comfort now, no longer choking back her sobs as they wracked her frame and her fingers curled into her brother's shirt. After a day like this she had, on some level, known Anthony would still be there. She nodded at his words, sobs eventually turning into sniffles and Hyacinth leaned back to look at him. "I miss him," she furrowed her brow.

Hyacinth wondered if Edmund would've responded the same way as Anthony did when she burst into the study that had belonged to him before it did her brother. She wondered if her father would've gathered her in his arms and reassured her with the same conviction. It was a tone of voice Hyacinth had heard many times, telling her and Gregory to stop their antics when they bickered, telling her to leave Daphne alone when her never ending quesetions clearly vexed their sister too much, but also the same tone that comforted her. This wasn't Viscount Bridgerton, this was Anthony, her older brother, telling her the fears swirling around in her head were not true.

Wiping her eyes Hyacinth looked up at him, green eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him, noted the distraction in his eyes. Hyacinth turned her head, gaze falling on the painting of their father that hung in the office. "I wish I had met him," Hyacinth said, her voice trembling less than it had before as she smiled softly towards her portrait. Crawling into the chair behind the desk Hyacinth tucked her legs into her night dress, knees pulled up to her chin as she rested her head on them, "Will you tell me about him again?"

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[Anthony Bridgerton]

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ALWAYS PROTECT YOU

His heart continued to ache for the youngest Bridgerton, as she thanked him and spoke of missing him. "I know," he said softly, a tone reserved only for those like Hyacinth. Those he loved so dearly. After all, the feeling was mutual. He too missed his father, more than he was capable of expressing. He was the oldest and had therefore, known Edmund the longest. He was fortunate to have had the most years with him out of any other Bridgerton, and he cherished every moment they shared.

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The day he learned of his father's death was such a strong memory, vivid . . . as Anthony could recall every single detail of that singular most devastating moment of his life. When she moved back from the embrace, he knew where her eyes went to before having to follow her gaze to what they rested on. "As do I," he said, knowing that there was nothing else he could say that would ease the pain of losing a father she knew never. It was truly a tragedy and Anthony would give anything for her to not have to suffer this pain.

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"I wish he had met you." Just the way she is now. Though he knew that Edmund would have been so much more for her; more than Anthony could ever be despite his best efforts. She shifted positions and asked him to tell her about him. Anthony gave a small smile, knowing that this helped her and he would do whatever he could for her. "He was the most brilliant man I have ever known," Anthony began to explain. "A man who held so much knowledge of so many things." Useful or not, Anthony had held on to every word that his father had said to him. Eager to follow in his footsteps.

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"He would tell me poetry and philosophy. He would tell me a bedtime story, every single night and never would two of them be the same unless I asked him to retell a favourite." Which did not often happen for he had always wanted to learn more. "He used to go on long hikes, allowing me to go with him and when Benedict was born, rather than depriving one of us of his company, he built a carrier so that he may hold Benedict as he walked and I moved alongside him." Anthony had gotten used to speaking of these stories; snippets of these memories. He had spent a decade guarding his emotions and concealing the magnitude of them, stoic in his delivery of anything related to his father. "He never left us wanting for anything." Not necessarily monetarily, but more so . . . when it came to affection, time and most of all, love.

[lennie1]

Hyacinth shifted in the large chair as Anthony started talking, her gaze flicking from Edmund's portrait to her brother and a small smile finding its place on her lips. She had spent her whole life pressing all her siblings for stories about their dad, maybe not Gregory, he had been two after all, while technically he had been alive while their dad was he hadn't been old enough to remember much. It didn't stop her feeling envious sometimes, of all of them. A small sigh passed her lips, smile still remaining in place as she listened to Anthony.

Stories was what she had and really, that was okay. Hyacinth knew no one was lying to her when they told her her dad would've loved her. Hearing about him made her feel closer to him, and sometimes she could even convince herself that she saw part of herself in the stories.

"He was the best dad, wasn't he?" Hyacinth contemplated, vision blurring with tears as she looked at the portrait. She sniffed, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of the nightgown. She couldn't imagine a different family than the one she had, couldn't imagine there was another family with so much love. They had dinner together, they talked to each other, they loved each other, most of the time they even liked each other. But the family constallation she had always known didn't include Edmund sitting at the head of the table, it was her brother.

She climbed out of the chair, once again moving to wrap her arms around his waist, "thank you," Hyacinth whispered softly, "for telling me, for being my brother," she pressed her face into his chest, slow breaths hitching in her throat, "I think you're brilliant, most of the time, at least more brilliant than Gregory."

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[Anthony Bridgerton]

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ALWAYS PROTECT YOU

The best dad. Yes. He was. Every memory of Edmund a fond one. Anthony had idolized him, did everything to make him proud and often had said when a boy . . . that he wanted to be just like him, if that was even possible. He knew now, that it was not. That in hoping to step into the role his father once had as head of the Bridgerton household, it was indeed the very loss of him that made it impossible for Anthony to truly be like his father.

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"He was," Anthony said quietly. Watching her move from her position, Anthony's arms were already open to welcome her back into, wrapping them around her smaller frame. When she thanked him, Anthony lowered himself enough to place a light kiss on the top of her head before straightening himself once more, arms still around her. "You never need thank me for that," he assured her. Whether it was sharing stories of their father, or being her brother. He only sought to make his father proud and to hear Hyacinth speak so highly of him . . . it was undeserved but so incredibly touching for Anthony to hear.

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"I am not sure that is saying much considering your feelings towards Gregory," Anthony said jokingly. He knew the two of them fought a lot but he also knew that if anywhere were to happen to one of them, it would be the other that would be the first there to comfort them. "But it does mean a a great deal to hear you say that Hyacinth," he told her honestly, wanting her to know that he deeply appreciated it, for he knew that many would not agree. "He loves you, Hyacinth. His way of showing it is just . . . different," Anthony assured her. It was much like when the eldest siblings were all younger and they used to annoy one another, as a way of showing affection. A lesson that Anthony had learned much later in life.

[lennie1]

Hyacinth tilted her head back, contemplative look on her young features as she watched him, studied him, "yes I do," she insisted, "because you won't think as highly of yourself as I do of you." Hyacinth continued, "and I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." She liked to think she knew her brother rather well, after all she had known him her whole life, and Anthony was self-critical beyond what he deserved. While Hyacinth had never met the man her brother compared her to, never seen her father be Viscount Bridgerton she couldn't imagine Anthony was doing such a terrible job. It had been ten years after all and they weren't ruined yet, so he couldn't be fully terrible.

A small smile found its place on her lips when he kissed the top of her head, Hyacinth's arms tightening around him slightly in response to the show of affection. She suppressed a yawn, hiding it in his chest, she didn't want to be sent off to bed, didn't want to find herself alone in her chambers yet again.

"I do love Gregory even if he is annoying," Hyacinth insisted, concern evident in her voice, surely no one believed she didn't love her brother? "I even like him when he doesn't take my belongings, or when he doesn't try to start food fights with me," she argued with a small huff. Did Hyacinth start the same food fights she complained of just as often? Of course she did, but that was definitely not the point. Hyacinth knew she'd never let anyone hurt Gregory, it was one thing if she pinched him in retaliation, but he was her brother, they were closest in age and she liked to think that meant something. After all it seemed like all her older siblings stuck close to the ones close to their own age so if that pattern followed she was stuck with Gregory, so she had to make sure he made it into adulthood.

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[Anthony Bridgerton]

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ALWAYS PROTECT YOU

Hyacinth's words meant a great deal to Anthony, whether she realized just how much or not. He knew that children tended to be brutally honest, demonstrating little restraint in their brutal honesty. Anthony had spent enough time with them to know. However, Hyacinth was different. Perhaps she would be the wisest of them all as she grew older and continued to thrive in this world. "I know you wouldn't," he told her a bit teasingly, though the appreciation was evident in his voice.

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He knew he had many . . . failures. His mother often reminded him of that, and ways that he should hold the title of Viscount through his actions. So to hear Hyacinth say such things, gave him hope that he was not in fact a disappointment to all of his siblings. Though, he would of course never voice such things. They were not meant for anyone's ears; only matters to be felt by Anthony's heart and thought in his mind. Anthony smiled with amusement as she assured him that she loved her brother even when he took her belongings.

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"You handle it well," he told her. They often of course stepped in to help resolve the conflict, but it was also quite typical . . . particularly with the close age difference. Anthony knew that he and Benedict also would get in conflicts when they were younger. A time that seemed like ages ago. "Come Hyacinth. It is late. I'll see you to bed and will stay with you until you are able to sleep." He wanted her to rest, not remain standing in his study that was hardly comfortable for her. "Would you like some warm milk?" He offered, willing to wake someone to get it for her despite the late hour.

[lennie1]

On occasion she handled her disagreements with Gregory in as unsavoury a manner as a ten-year-old could think of. On occasion he deserved it. So perhaps Anthony wasn't really correct when he said she handled herself well, but it didn't feel like something she needed to spend time on correcting him. Hyacinth smiled instead, a toothy and wide grin, the smile of a child not yet carefully crafting her smiles to fit in the eyes of society.

She hesitated, going to bed in the first place was what had been the issue, it was when her mind had started to spin and the thoughts or anxiety and dread had took over. Returning to her bedroom didn't seem like the solution. Hyacinth knew though if Anthony promised her to stay until she fell asleep he would stay, he wouldn't go until he was absolutely certain she had really fallen asleep. Still she wasn't keen on the deal and Hyacinth pulled her lip between her teeth, chewing on her lower lip in a nervous habit until he gave her an out and she felt her shoulders drop.

Hyacinth nodded, "warm milk sounds really nice," she agreed. Hyacinth knew it meant they'd need to wake one of the help, and it was hardly fair considering the time, she also knew whoever it was they would gladly help them with a warm smile. Had it been another night Hyacinth would've said no but just this night she wasn't ready to return to her bed immediately. Then, concern flashed through her eyes and she hoped it was not an either or situation, "you'll still stay, won't you? Until I fall asleep? Even if I want some warm milk."

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ALWAYS PROTECT YOU

Agreeing to the offer of warm milk, Anthony nodded, knowing that that was often a tradition each Bridgerton sibling had when they were younger. His father had started it with him, giving the eldest son a glass of warm milk any time he found sleep difficult to succumb to. The tradition carried on as Anthony did it for his younger siblings, yet another fond memory of Edmund. While it seemed like such a common occurrence, the benefits of it well known . . . Anthony still regarded it as a tradition set forth by his father. And traditions like that, would not change.

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When she asked him if he would stay, he smiled at her, not holding a single doubt in his answer. Despite the intense focus he had in his work -- albeit momentarily distracted from it -- his siblings always took priority. Hyacinth would always take priority. "Of course," he assured her. "I promise you, I will not leave until I am certain you are asleep." The fact that his presence comforted her and would hopefully help lull her to sleep, touched him.

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The role of a father figure was strongest in his bond with Hyacinth and he only wished that she had the privilege of having a true father. "Come, let's get you back into bed," he told her, offering his hand for her to take. "Is there any particular story you'd like to hear tonight?" He further offered. Whether it was the telling of a story, silent company, or simple conversation . . . he would keep true to his promise, and remain with her until she found the comfort of sleep.

[lennie1]

What she really wanted was not milk, or stories, it was just for him to not leave. Hyacinth knew the moment he did if she had not been able to fall asleep yet she would only fall back into the tailspin of terrible thoughts. The only way she knew to avoid the whole thing was to hold his hand as tight as she could and ask him to tell story after story. But Anthony's reassurance he would stay with her calmed her and Hyacinth nodded, jumping to her feet to grab his hand.

There was evidence of Edmund Bridgerton all over their home, all over Aubrey Hall out in Kent, in every room they owed there were memories of a father she did not know. So her mother and her siblings all saw those memories and yet Hyacinth did not understand in the same way as her mother got a little misty eyed looking at a chair in the drawing room. Even Gregory had vague memories, though his were mostly reconstruced from stories told to him about his time spent with their father. At least he had had time.

Hyacinth pursed her lips considering his question before a wicked thought entered her mind. Though the expression on her features remained soft, eyes wide and curious as she tilted her head back to look at him as they left the study together. "Will you tell me about Pall Mall? You spent so much time with papa at Aubrey Hall, did you play Pall Mall together?" the question was nothing but full of mischievous intention even as Hyacinth herself remained the very picture of innocence, "Did he teach you? I wish he could be here to teach me those kinds of things..." she trailed off with a heavy sigh.

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[Anthony Bridgerton]

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ALWAYS PROTECT YOU

Anthony could not help but smile at what she wished to hear about. Pall Mall and of course, time spent with his father. "That we did," he confirmed, his smile unwavering. The memories of his father he held so dear and yet, speaking of them he felt the need to withhold emotions from surfacing; he supposed ones he had long suppressed and had not quite yet dealt with. "I am fairly certain he let me win on many occasions," Anthony told her. Deep down he had always known, but in the moment, he enjoyed the feeling of victory.

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"He taught Benedict and I together," he further explained. "We were not much older than you in fact," he told her with a fond smile. Her latter words further reminder of all that Hyacinth, and the others, missed when it came to having a father. A true father. "If there is anything you would like to learn, I am happy to teach you," he offered to her.

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While he knew there was no question about it, he wanted to reassure of that. As he previously thought, he knew he could not truly take the place of a father . . . or rather, their father. But, he did not wish for Hyacinth to want for anything when it was within Anthony's capability to grant it to her. Especially if it was time spent teaching her whatever she wished to learn. Even something like Pall Mall.

[lennie1]

It would have been wonderful had it been their father currently taking her back to bed making the offer. Hyacinth saw how much they all tried to show her the love Edmund had shown them, that she never got to receive. It would have been nice had it been her dad comforting her in his study, had it been her dad tucking her into bed after she had a nightmare, had it been her dad offering to teach her how to play Pall Mall. She knew how much Anthony always tried to be more than her brother and she really did love him for it.

His offer was exactly what Hyacinth had wanted to hear and the young girl squealed in excitement, stopping to throw her arms around his waist in a tight embrace. "Thank you," Hyacinth smiled widely, grinning toothily from ear to ear. The smile morphed into a stern frown as she drew back, pointing her finger at him, "you must promise me you will not let me win, I am sure I will be perfectly capable of winning regardless once I know the rules of the game."

She didn't mean that. She very much hoped he picked up on how she didn't mean it. Surely he understood she very much wanted him to let her win no matter what she told him, anyone would understand that. Hyacinth had seen the bloodbath which was her siblings playing Pall Mall together at Aubrey Hall and she wanted to be part of it for real and not have anyone give her a victory. But she also wanted to just learn, to spend the time with her older brother and for both of them to know he was letting her win while absolutely denying that was what was happening.

It was really very simple and sensible.

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ALWAYS PROTECT YOU

Anthony truly lived for such moments. To see Hyacinth so happy, so excited. The large smile that swelled his heart with joy, knowing that he could do something -- anything -- to draw that reaction from her. A paternal pride indeed, seeing his youngest sister so thrilled about what little he could offer her. He knew he would never be as good as his father, not even a fraction as great . . . so these moments, of seeing genuine happiness and joy from his siblings . . . were ones he most cherished. When she drew back, her voice suddenly becoming almost serious, Anthony continued to smile at her 'warning'.

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"I would not dream of it," he told her. He understood her tone just as he was certain she understood his. Words exchanged that he would not let her win but inside . . . he knew that he would. She knew that he would. It never had to be acknowledged but it was understood. Hyacinth was perhaps the only one he would ever let win in Pall Mall. Anthony -- like his other siblings who played -- took the game very seriously. It was perhaps the only time the Bridgerton children could be rightfully called liars and cheats. But not with Hyacinth.

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"I am certain that you will learn quickly, and come out victorious." She was, perhaps the best of them all in so many ways. "Perhaps this calls for a trip to Aubrey Hall," he suggested. Instead of sending for the mallets and balls, they may as well go there themselves. It was not a trip that Anthony often took . . . but considering what the day marked, he imagined going now would not be any less painful. Perhaps, it was a way to further honor his father's memory.