After months of being apart, the occasional letter decorated with kisses, and his artistic scribbles depicting where he is, how much he misses you, how much he loves you, and you just displaying your open love and affections and how proud of him you are for overall providing for you and your darling sons, both blond and beautiful. One was only a year old, the other nine months older. Yes it had been quite the reunion you two had had last time..

You’d even had the manor readied, a wonderful dinner being cooked as we speak by the servants and chefs, rooms made up to be perfect.

Anyhow, the boys were happily babbling and playing on the expensive white leather in the back of the car whilst you took turns fixing their attire. “Come on darling,” you murmur at your eldest, Sawyer whilst your youngest, Oliver was happily climbing all over the seats. You fixed Sawyers collar of the nice shirt, and huff, leaning over to pick up Oliver. “Come on baby,” you fix his messy blond curls and look into those big blue eyes. His chubby fingers touch and squish your cheeks, as he watches in amazement.

When you finally arrive at the location, you spot your parents, talking with a few friends and wave. There was a huge bar and stage setup to the side, you see all of the men formed up, in that pale grey uniform, some with badges, some with peaked hats, such as your husband. When you spot him amidst the higher ranks, obviously as he was a captain. This was his final deployment and he was back for good, to finish becoming a politician, moments later your lips give out to a wobbly smile, blinking back tears.

On one hip you balanced Oliver, and you held Sawyer’s hand as he looked around all the men. You’d worn a pretty dress for him, done your hair and made up your face. After a small speech, permission was granted to meet with loved ones. So you weave in and out of people, stood embraced or crying. When we get to Coriolanus, Oliver is the one to reach out and tap him out. Coriolanus pulls Oliver into his arms, and reaches to pull Sawyer up top. He was nothing huge proud of his sons, both academic and take after him even at an early age.

He places them down, mumbling something you don’t hear, and they run off in the direction of your parents. He looks at you, a small smile on his face, waiting.