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eliyesLian Harper's favourite naptime lullaby is a song she calls "Hello Lamp-post". Her daddy sings it to her, but only for daytime naps. For going to bed at night there are other songs, songs that don't reference drowsing in the sunlit morning.
When she outgrows the naps, she misses the song, misses the way her daddy's lips curled around the words. In that way of children, she feels like the song doesn't exist now that he doesn't sing it to her. She has a measure of unspoken anxiety that she will forget it, like she has forgotten other things from her early childhood -- songs and games she has only dim, bright impressions of, without detail.
When she is eleven, she gets sick badly enough to have to go to the hospital. Roy sits beside her bed the whole time, washing her fevered face with a cool cloth and singing softly, so softly, the songs a father dedicates to his child with love. He prays, too, and cries whenever one of his friends, come to keep him company in his vigil, hugs him hard enough to squeeze it out past the terror in his throat. Lian has only the fuzziest recollection of any of this, but while it is happening, his voice soothes her own fear. Daddy is here and all will be well, somehow.
When Lian turns fifteen, she gets teased a lot by adults that she's growing up. Mostly, though, the teasing is aimed at her dad -- especially when it comes from his oldest friends. After all, they were heroes and Titans at her age. On the one hand, she agrees, but on the other, she wants them to quit it now that the idea has been planted and before he can get sick of hearing about it. Feeling the need to derail the teasing before her plans to spring a costume and codename and petition to be allowed to fight evil on her dad can be unwittingly scuttled, she seizes on one of Aunt Donna's comments about how Roy will be a grandfather before he knows it.
"Yeah, Dad," she says loudly enough to be heard over the laughing at Roy's horrified face, "so you should start teaching me what I need to know about babies now, before you forget." He turns to her with a comicly betrayed expression, so she logically points out, "You have to start now because I only have time to learn a little bit of it outside of the other stuff I'm doing."
There is more laughter, and Roy gives in with a roll of his eyes and a twist of his lips.
"I guess if you decide to go to college, I'll get to embarrass you by texting you instructions for changing diapers," he concedes.
Lian chooses not to point out that she already knows how to change diapers, and has done it as part of her babysitting jobs. Instead, she says, "Teach me something now. Teach me -- teach me the words to Hello Lamp-post." She knows she picked well because her dad stops looking vaguely harried, his eyes and mouth going affectionately soft as he ruffles her hair.
"'Hello Lamp-post'?" Uncle Dick inquires with a strange little smile.
"It's an easier name for a kid to remember than 'The 59th Street Bridge Song'," Roy retorts. "You got your guitar?"
Uncle Dick does, and he fetches it -- an old acoustic, well-loved, scuffed and polished from years of use. He tunes it as the Titans settle like a flock of birds coming to roost, exchanging quick smiles like they do when they remember something good. Lian sits across from her dad, in the middle of the couch, flanked by Aunt Donna and Uncle Garth. The guitar plays him in and he sings, looking right into her eyes.
"Slow down, you move too fast
You got to make the morning last
Just kicking down the cobble stones
Looking for fun and feelin' groovy
Ba da, Ba da, Ba da, Ba da...Feelin' Groovy
Hello lamp-post,
What cha knowin'?
I've come to watch your flowers growin'.
Ain't cha got no rhymes for me?
Doot-in' doo-doo,
Feelin' groovy.
I've got no deeds to do,
No promises to keep.
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep.
Let the morning time drop all its petals on me.
Life, I love you,
All is groovy."
Lian launches off her seat and flings her arms around her dad's neck.
"I'm in no hurry," she whispers to him.
"Good," he whispers back, then clears his throat. "Come on, one more time, everybody sing!"
They do. It turns out that all the Titans know the song (even Uncle Garth) and they mostly sing it with a bouncy happiness that isn't so much a lullaby, but that's okay. Lian figures that the key is how you curl your lips around the words, and put your love into it.
Her daddy already taught her that.
".
When she outgrows the naps, she misses the song, misses the way her daddy's lips curled around the words. In that way of children, she feels like the song doesn't exist now that he doesn't sing it to her. She has a measure of unspoken anxiety that she will forget it, like she has forgotten other things from her early childhood -- songs and games she has only dim, bright impressions of, without detail.
When she is eleven, she gets sick badly enough to have to go to the hospital. Roy sits beside her bed the whole time, washing her fevered face with a cool cloth and singing softly, so softly, the songs a father dedicates to his child with love. He prays, too, and cries whenever one of his friends, come to keep him company in his vigil, hugs him hard enough to squeeze it out past the terror in his throat. Lian has only the fuzziest recollection of any of this, but while it is happening, his voice soothes her own fear. Daddy is here and all will be well, somehow.
When Lian turns fifteen, she gets teased a lot by adults that she's growing up. Mostly, though, the teasing is aimed at her dad -- especially when it comes from his oldest friends. After all, they were heroes and Titans at her age. On the one hand, she agrees, but on the other, she wants them to quit it now that the idea has been planted and before he can get sick of hearing about it. Feeling the need to derail the teasing before her plans to spring a costume and codename and petition to be allowed to fight evil on her dad can be unwittingly scuttled, she seizes on one of Aunt Donna's comments about how Roy will be a grandfather before he knows it.
"Yeah, Dad," she says loudly enough to be heard over the laughing at Roy's horrified face, "so you should start teaching me what I need to know about babies now, before you forget." He turns to her with a comicly betrayed expression, so she logically points out, "You have to start now because I only have time to learn a little bit of it outside of the other stuff I'm doing."
There is more laughter, and Roy gives in with a roll of his eyes and a twist of his lips.
"I guess if you decide to go to college, I'll get to embarrass you by texting you instructions for changing diapers," he concedes.
Lian chooses not to point out that she already knows how to change diapers, and has done it as part of her babysitting jobs. Instead, she says, "Teach me something now. Teach me -- teach me the words to Hello Lamp-post." She knows she picked well because her dad stops looking vaguely harried, his eyes and mouth going affectionately soft as he ruffles her hair.
"'Hello Lamp-post'?" Uncle Dick inquires with a strange little smile.
"It's an easier name for a kid to remember than 'The 59th Street Bridge Song'," Roy retorts. "You got your guitar?"
Uncle Dick does, and he fetches it -- an old acoustic, well-loved, scuffed and polished from years of use. He tunes it as the Titans settle like a flock of birds coming to roost, exchanging quick smiles like they do when they remember something good. Lian sits across from her dad, in the middle of the couch, flanked by Aunt Donna and Uncle Garth. The guitar plays him in and he sings, looking right into her eyes.
"Slow down, you move too fast
You got to make the morning last
Just kicking down the cobble stones
Looking for fun and feelin' groovy
Ba da, Ba da, Ba da, Ba da...Feelin' Groovy
Hello lamp-post,
What cha knowin'?
I've come to watch your flowers growin'.
Ain't cha got no rhymes for me?
Doot-in' doo-doo,
Feelin' groovy.
I've got no deeds to do,
No promises to keep.
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep.
Let the morning time drop all its petals on me.
Life, I love you,
All is groovy."
Lian launches off her seat and flings her arms around her dad's neck.
"I'm in no hurry," she whispers to him.
"Good," he whispers back, then clears his throat. "Come on, one more time, everybody sing!"
They do. It turns out that all the Titans know the song (even Uncle Garth) and they mostly sing it with a bouncy happiness that isn't so much a lullaby, but that's okay. Lian figures that the key is how you curl your lips around the words, and put your love into it.
Her daddy already taught her that.
".
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(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-16 07:38 pm (UTC)This a great story. It should definitely be canon. :) Why did Lian have to die? She could have been a great character! If you know what kind of superhero she was going to be, I'd love to hear it.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-17 01:11 am (UTC)Thank you. I wish she hadn't died, it was excessively senseless. I think she probably would have been an marksman, like her dad.