What's Beneath The Flesh
“You are not meant to be here, Sir Vanrouge,” The medic ground out around clenched teeth. She glared down at him, ears pinned so tightly to her skull he nearly couldn’t see them.
Lilia squashed down the desire to cause even more mischief. As fun as it was to watch them squirm, if he wanted the chance to take the child in, he’d need to play nice. Well, as nicely as he could at least. He’d never been overly fond of hospitals and medics in general.
“You have me at a disadvantage, Mrs. Combat Medic,” He hinted, only slightly antagonistically. It really was rude to start a conversation without introducing oneself.
“You may refer to me as Madame Criquet,” She said snippishly, eyes narrowing at him. There was no taste to the name, no magic that accompanied it. A pseudonym then, “Explain yourself, Sir Vanrouge.”
He smiled at the medic angelically, a hand on his chest and innocence bleeding from him, “Am I not a student of this establishment? I assure you, I am fully acting within the rules of this establishment.”
The medic's lip curled, derision clear in every twitch of her tail. Lilia watched her with distant amusement and perhaps that was rude of him but he didn’t really feel like being polite. The night had begun to push him past what he was comfortable dealing with and he just knew he’d have more to deal with.
Of course, he didn’t blame the child in the least, but he couldn’t deny that he wasn’t excited to handle all the paperwork and bureaucracy that was to come. Truly, it’d be so much easier if humans hadn’t decided paperwork was the end all be all of life. He knew for a fact that beastfolk historically had similar practices to Fae when it came to adopting children. Even in the modern age, the beastfolk kingdoms of the world still preferred their survival-of-the-fittest ideology. That was excluding merfolk child-rearing tendencies, but even Lilia wouldn’t touch that with a fifty-foot pole.
Letting your kids fight it out for superiority was one thing, hunting and eating them immediately after birth was something totally different. Humans were the only species that apparently decided the written word was the absolute pinnacle of civilization and, unfortunately for the rest of the world, they were actually pretty damn good at what they did. Not as good as Fae, of course, but better than most other species. Why they couldn’t just use verbal contracts like the Fae, Lilia didn’t know, but it was one of the many sources of contention between their species.
“We both know that’s a farce, Sir Vanrouge. You’re well aware of the laws in place. A Fae of your age is to be nowhere near an unaccompanied child.”
Lilia raised an eyebrow, hands folded behind his back and smile still in place as she continued. His ears twitched as the blond boy he’d taunted before examined the child, asking probing questions Lilia knew the boy wouldn’t be able to answer or understand.
“The only legal process followed adequately in this situation was calling for a med-evac,” the medic hissed out a low breath, seemingly calming herself down from a growing tirade, “I need you to tell me everything you know about this situation. Anything you’ve gotten from the patient; gender, age, injuries, how long they’ve been injured, everything .”
Ah, but he could admire the sheer professionalism of human medical personnel. Had a Fae medic been in a similar situation, he highly doubted there’d be much helping going on at all. Most Fae had a weakness for children but that weakness could very easily be overtaken by the pettiness his people were known for.
Lilia straightened a bit, head cocked just the smallest bit. The woman squirmed subtly under his stare but he nodded. He could reciprocate that professionalism, no matter how much the scent of medicine and medical magic burned his nose.
“The child has an injury to his right arm, a puncture straight through. No obvious broken bones that I’m aware of though I wouldn’t doubt a number of fractures. Blood loss is evident, though I slowed its progression. Given his current state, I’m inclined to assume the puncture was accompanied by envenomation,” He rattled off a list of what he’d observed. The medic noted each down in a notepad she’d pulled out.
“The child introduced himself as an orphan and I, in kind, introduced myself. However, he does not seem to speak Corali or indeed any language commonly known,” he smiled sardonically up at her, “You may want to help your subordinate.”
A high startled yelp shattered the near peaceful air of the infirmary and Madame Criquet’s head snapped to the side, eyes blown wide. He’d been keeping tabs on the boy and the medic attending him while talking to the combat medic, needing to be certain the child was being handled safely. It was only that certainty that kept him from reacting… unfavorably …when the child yelped. The sound pierced through him like an arrow, raising the hair along his neck with the mere sound. Danger echoed in the wake of that bell-like ringing sound. This wasn’t the kind of danger evoked from a predator or a threat. No, that sound brought to mind bear cubs and what followed them from the shadows.
Lilies danced in his mind and burning red and gold wrapped around him. She wasn’t there, not truly, but he could still see the pale creamy gold strands of magic around the boy. Lilia wasn’t ashamed to say he felt a trickling of fear at the thought of the being he’d met. There was very little one could do to fight the dead if they really wanted to cause harm. Ghosts he could fight, but that woman? No, Lilia didn’t think he’d be much of a match for her. It was almost novel, feeling fear. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d genuinely felt it for himself. He’d long since thought he’d lost any sense of self-preservation.
Apparently not.
Huh.
The medics conversed lowly and rapidly, medical jargon going over his head, but with enough urgency to make anxiety curl around his heart. That anxiety only grew when Madame Criquet started her own rapid-paced exam, her brows pulled low over her eyes, teeth grinding together so hard he could hear them creaking. Whatever she’d found in her search sent a fresh wave of fear into her scent, the smell of ammonia and acidity bled into the air.
“Pack it up! Jackal, you’re front runner,” the medic tending to the potion vials bolted for the door instantly, a build-up of magic grew the moment he crossed the threshold, and a second later an almost water-like feeling rippled out. Unique magic, no doubt. Likely some type of physical enhancement or perhaps even a warping ability. Rare and incredibly interesting, but this was not the time to be admiring a youngster’s abilities
The potion box snapped itself shut, slotting itself under the gurney. With a flick of her pen, the gurney began moving and Lilia stayed still. He’d not been invited or otherwise pardoned from the legal ties keeping him from following the child, but that would be easy enough to get around. As the vice housewarden of Diasomnia it was his duty to oversee the well-being of the students and the child was technically a student. He’d come through a gate, been accepted by the enchantments on the carriages, and, though he’d yet to be assigned a dorm, Crowley hadn’t rejected him. So, by technicality, he belonged to all the dorms equally until formally sorted into one.
If that didn’t work than he could claim responsibility over the child due to their little Name exchange. He could spin it like the child had given him his Name and there was nothing the Land of Dawning would be able to do to dispute that claim or separate him from the boy. He’d prefer to keep that as a last resort though. Tensions between the Valley and Dawning were already strained, Queen Maleficia would not be happy with him if he strained it even further. She also wouldn’t be happy about a lost child being subjected to human bureaucracy, not that the Fae one was any better, worse actually, but at least they wouldn’t be tempted to incinerate a nation when dealing with their own people.
Still, it was an option. She’d probably make him deal with the political fallout of that option, which ew politics, but it was an option nonetheless. The absolute last resort, aside from actually kidnapping the boy. Which, well, he wasn’t opposed to. The sheer chaos it’d cause would be amusing and Queen Maleficia might actually be amused enough to not foist the inevitable war preparations onto him. The physical ones at least. He was already resigned to the paperwork. Maybe he could push it off onto Silver and Sebek as “training”. Sebek would fall for it. Silver would give him that Look though. That “really, Father, really ” look.
On one hand paperwork, on the other disappointment from his son.
Lilia sighed quietly and accepted his fate. He could almost see the mountains of paper and their too-small print in his future. The things he did for his kids.
Adulting . What an absolutely disgusting thing.
“Wait, hold on! Aren’t you coming too?”
Lilia snapped out of his thoughts as the boy twisted away from the medics. Wide teary eyes gazed up at him beseechingly from a pale, almost grey, face. Stress drew the child’s brows high and pressed his lips thin. Lilia’s heart twinged in his chest. Oh , that was positively lethal . It was like watching one of those sad animal adoption commercials. It was such a good thing Lilia was the one to get to him first. The boy would’ve been snatched up immediately by anyone else. It was a miracle Dire wasn’t interested in parenthood, else Lilia would’ve had to fight him for the right to the child.
Ah, but there was the invitation he needed. Simple, sweet, to the point; all the things he liked in these kinds of things. He could practically hear Madame Criquet’s teeth grinding. Fate was with him today it seemed.
Satisfaction bled from him in waves. Madame Criquet’s ears folded back against her head, lips pulling back in a primal show of displeasure. No doubt she’d been banking on nobody inviting him along. She’d likely planned to use the urgency of the situation as an excuse to avoid repercussions, legal or otherwise. Tricky cat, but not tricky enough.
“You have cat ears on your head,” the boy spoke, voice soft and whispery. His pale skin paled even further, chest barely moving as he stared in transfixed fascination at the beastwoman. The medic froze stiff, breaking the little staring contest they’d been having.
Lilia took a step forward, smile dropping slightly. It was one thing to not recognize a Fae. His people weren’t very numerous and tended towards mountainous regions. Beastfolk however were the most populous species in Twisted Wonderland. If the child didn’t recognize one then that meant something was very very wrong.
Lilia didn’t have very long to think about the boy’s curious and concerning lack of basic knowledge, however. He’d barely gotten within reaching distance when the child snatched hold of his jacket. He went stock still, fighting back a flinch. He swallowed thickly, taking in a slow shallow breath as he calmed his rabbit-quick heartbeat.
How very disconcerting. He hadn’t reacted like that in- well, he didn’t even know how long. The whole situation must’ve really been getting to him if he was getting that twitchy. Lilia stared down at the little fragile hand clutched in his jacket. Skin stretched tight around tiny thin bones, bright blue veins swollen and popping out against the translucent skin. He swallowed down the urge to untangle that little hand and rub warmth into the white knuckles.
“You’re coming too, aren’t you, Mr. Vanrouge?”
Lilia went deadly tense, smile straining. Desperation gazed up at him, begging him, hidden beneath an innocent facade. The beast he usually kept so tightly leashed thrashed in its cage. Slowly, so very very slowly, he turned his eyes away from the boy. The child. The very alone child who was begging a Fae.
Lilia considered himself a strong man, but he only had so much strength and that strength was failing under that pitiful look. He could steal him away. Away from the humans that didn’t deserve to gaze upon that innocence, that too naive trust. Away from the Fae and his people’s poisonous ways. Away from the beastfolk and their primal brutality.
His gaze bore into the beastwoman as he breathed in slow and steady, pushing his instincts down as far as he could. He didn’t typically suppress his urges, but he didn’t feel like he could trust himself at the moment, not when they were so close to the surface. A distant part of himself wondered why exactly he was reacting this way when not even Silver had garnered such a visceral reaction. Was it the child’s injured state? Their similarities? Perhaps something to do with their introduction?
“ Unfortunately ,” She began, her voice sharp and full of meaning “Your companion will be unable to join us.”
Oh yes, he would be. Lilia pushed back a snicker, giddy amusement bubbling like a cauldron in him. He still had reservations about taking the boy in, but that didn’t mean he was comfortable leaving the child. There was very little that could convince him otherwise and evidently, the child felt the same.
The boy’s eyes narrowed, darkened, and his scent took a sharp turn. The child tensed, hand clenching around his jacket. Lilia watched it all with a growing sense of anticipation and glee.
That was a look Lilia was very familiar with. One he’d seen on slighted Fae and malcontent children. Vindictive, malicious, mischievous; what an utterly Fae look. It made him want to cackle but that would tip Madame Criquet off and Lilia was not so impolite as to ruin a little good fun. Especially when the child looked like he dearly needed that fun.
“Why not?” The boy asked in completely fake innocent confusion.
Lilia’s face hurt from trying to keep a shit-eating grin down. He was baiting her. The child was leading her by the nose, just daring her to respond, and he was doing a good job of it too. His tone was a perfect mix of confusion and childish indignation. His eyes wide and puppy-like. Oh, it was perfect, but then the child looked up at him.
Lilia grimaced as he fully processed the question and the actual real confusion the child hid beneath his little facade. Not good. Not good at all. He had told the boy he was Fae and perhaps it was his fault for thinking the child understood what exactly that meant, but in his defense even if the child had never seen a Fae he should’ve at least known their reputation. That was something none of them could escape.
His people had been known child thieves for millennia. Obviously, humans had a bit of a problem with that and had made that very known. There wasn’t a corner of Twisted Wonderland that didn’t guard their young zealously from the Fae. He’d even been to some places that attempted to outlaw Fae, unsuccessfully, but they still tried.
It was ironic and hypocritical. Humans acted like they were the end-all-be-all of races, like beastfolk and merfolk didn’t outnumber them. Beastfolk stole children almost as often as Fae did, that was if they decided to raise their children at all. Beastfolk children tended to be the ones most likely to be picked up by a Fae, simply because beastfolk decided survival-of-the-fittest was an excellent method of child-rearing. It wasn’t unusual, even in this day and age, to find a beastfolk child all but abandoned. The slums of the Sunset Savannah were filled with little ones fighting for the right to live.
He looked away from those beseeching eyes, choosing to look at Madame Criquet instead. The woman glared at him, accusation clear. His spine prickled and he very decidedly didn’t bare his teeth at her. His fingers twitched, magic gathering with malicious intent before he dispelled it. He was not here to kill medics. He would not kill one of the medics. He could punish her later, a curse of some sort would suffice. A few months of tinnitus or minor inconveniences. He could make her stub her toe every time she entered a room or maybe he could make sure she hit every red light every time she tried to go anywhere. Yes, he could curse her. Just something minor, there was no need for anything larger.
“Because it is the law, young man. As an unaffiliated adult Fae, Sir Vanrouge is not permitted within the premises of a pediatric medical facility. Therefore, he will not be accompanying us. Truthfully, he and any other Fae should’ve been separated from you upon discovery.”
Well, she hadn’t lied and she was moderately polite about it. That was just about the only thing Lilia could say about her answer. That law had been an absolute bitch to work around when Silver was little. The Valley didn’t have any laws similar but they also didn’t have very many doctors knowledgeable in human growth or illnesses. He’d had to take Silver to a neighboring human settlement instead. A geas over his ears and eyes was enough to get around most of the prejudice but he hated hiding himself. His wings were hidden out of necessity, not any desire to mimic humanity.
Eventually, he’d just had Sebek’s father take the boys and report back to him afterward. It was much simpler that way, especially when Sebek’s father was an expert on explaining human medical terms and such.
“You’re saying he can’t come because he’s not human ?”
Lilia was jolted out of his thoughts by the pure venom that spilled from the boy’s mouth. Complete and utter loathing saturated the word.
“That’s stupid !” The child’s lips pulled back to show bloody teeth, small fangs gnashing as he spoke.
Lilia blinked, long and slow. That was not a human reaction. Those were not human teeth. A halfling? It would make things so much easier if he were. Stealing a half-human child would give him far less paperwork than a full-blooded human child. Other species didn’t care nearly as much as humans.
“We don’t have time for this,” Madame Criquet muttered under her breath, looking like she dearly needed a strong drink. Lilia couldn’t deny the vindictive satisfaction that curled in his gut. With a wave of her pen, the gurney began to move and everything went even further downhill for the poor, poor, medic.
The boy’s eyes went wide, pupils dilating wide, black engulfing the green. Very not human, but not exactly Fae either. Or at least not any Fae Lilia had experience with. There were thousands of different breeds of Fae, it was impossible to know them all. Most Fae he’d encountered were nocturnal Fae or reptilian and they tended to have elongated pupils. Lilia’s own eyes were a tad more elliptical than most, but his vision was truly excellent compared to most of his kin.
Lilia let out a soft grunt as the child plummeted face-first into his arm, little arms wrapping around him like snakes. This time he didn’t bother hiding a toothy smile, making it abundantly clear just how pleased he was.
“Child, stop this,” The good medic glared at him like it was his fault the child didn’t want to leave, “Sir Vanrouge can not accompany us; this is not up for debate. You need medical care, extensive medical care we aren’t capable of providing here.”
The child burrowed into his jacket, rubbing his face against the fabric, taking in deep breaths. Lilia let out a soft incredulous laugh because really this was going even better than he’d expected. The child was scenting him, breathing in his scent like he was trying to burn it into his memory permanently.
Non-human. Definitely, without a single doubt, non-human. Fae or beastfolk related most likely. Lilia found himself somewhat hoping the boy was part beastfolk, just so he could have a variety. He already had a Fae son, a half-Fae son, and a human son. If he was going to collect children, which really seemed to be the way his life was going, then he wanted the whole set. Like a living collector's addition.
“Then leave! I don’t need you!” The child buried his face deeper into his coat and Lilia felt like his face was going to split open with how wide his grin was.
“Oh dear,” he said with unmitigated glee, smiling brightly at the medic.
Her tail twitched violently, whipping from side to side, fur puffing up. Feline pupils widened into large circles. Lilia’s ears twitched curiously as he watched her pupils expand, much like the child’s.
“Child, if you don’t obey my medical authority, I will be forced to restrain you for your own good. You’re in a delicate enough situation, Sir Vanrouge, I suggest removing yourself before your presence makes the situation worse than it already is.”
Like that was going to happen. No, Lilia was just fine where he was. Honestly, how cruel did she think he was? If he hadn’t already decided not to leave the boy, the scenting definitely would’ve changed his mind. If she thought the situation was bad now then he was half tempted to take a step from the boy just so she could see how violent the situation could get. He didn’t think the boy would take well at all to being separated from him.
He was proven right not even a second after the words crossed the medic's lips.
The boy’s head whipped away from him and the air went stagnant and thick with tension. Lilia’s skin drew tight against his mortal form, his bones creaking. His ears rose high, shivering as heat bled into the air like a miasma.
A deep rolling growl, warning and tense, built in the child’s chest. It shook the air, filling the room with a feeling of deep discontent. Lilia let out a slow breath and fought down the urge to run his hand through the boy’s hair. His fingers twitched with the need to soothe the child. He had raised a dragon and a crocodile, that sound wasn’t anger. No, that was fear masquerading as anger. That was the sound of a small predator hoping to scare away a bigger threat.
“He’s coming with us,” the boy grumbled out, and truly it was a grumble, no matter how deep and rumbly it was. Lilia had heard what a real growl sounded like, could make one of his own if he really wanted, and that was not one. Oh, it was an attempt at one, and a very cute one at that. He almost wanted to melt from the sheer cuteness. It was like watching a kitten hiss and spit, getting all puffed up and tense.
“He is not. Sir Vanrouge already has one charge of child theft on his record, and I would very much not like to add another.”
What was it human children liked to say nowadays? Oh yes, finders keepers .
“Well, nobody asked you,” the boy snapped back in a positively scathing tone that had Lilia’s eyebrows raising. His eyes darted between the boy and the medic, his smile growing even wider.
“Well then, this is quite the conundrum,” he said just to get a rise out of the medic. It worked fabulously.
“ Sir Vanrouge! ”
A guttural hiss split the air and this time it truly was anger that fueled it. It was a low, deep vibration that shook Lilia’s bones and burned his eardrums. He couldn’t help the way his head canted to the side, face twisting as his ears rang with echoes of the sound. Like the scream of a jet engine warming up, it started deep and went high.
Inhuman. So very far from human Lilia had a hard time believing the boy was even half human . He’d heard Beastfolk and Fae make all kinds of vocalizations, but nothing like that . He rolled his shoulders subtly, trying to loosen up muscles that had tensed when the sound first started. It almost reminded him of Baul’s hiss when he was particularly pissed off, but more throaty almost.
He had to quell the instinct to bop the boy on the head, an instinctive reaction he’d gained after centuries of dealing with overreactive reptiles. Malleus and Sebek both learned very quickly not to hiss at him over every little thing. Now they only hissed at him when he tried going into the kitchen for some odd reason. Ungrateful little brats.
“Don’t talk to him like that! You don’t get to talk to him like that! He won’t let anything happen to me, he promised! ”
He’d have to teach the boy some subtlety. He could forgive the sloppiness, what with the blood loss and such, but he’d have to do much better than that if he wanted to survive among the Fae. But Lilia would teach him. He had a long way to go and there was much work to be done.
To bring up his oath, however, was very clever. Very clever indeed, but naive as well. Though he doubted the boy didn’t realize the loopholes he’d left behind. It was a surefire way to get access to the child and his medical information and any challenges to his guardianship in the future. He wouldn’t allow any challenges to go unanswered. The human system would have to pry the child from his long very dead hands. Ah, but the child likely didn’t understand just what he was giving over. He’d learn in the future.
It really was a good thing Lilia was the Fae that had found the boy. His people could be cruel with the things they considered theirs and Lilia was no exception, though he was far gentler with his possessions than others.
Madame Criquet’s face had paled and Lilia knew she’d caught on to what the boy hadn’t. Oaths were such delicate, finicky, things. The boy could’ve let it go, let it be fulfilled in the basic manner. Lilia had done as he had sworn, ensured no further harm came to him while under his care. They could’ve left it at that. They could’ve left the oath to dissipate, the binding between them fading to nothing.
Lilia had given that oath with an open mind and a willingness to see it done, but if the child wanted to pass it back to him, well, who was he to refuse a game? The ball was in his court now, not that it had ever truly left, and now he could decide what exactly he wanted to do with it. The child had handed him an opportunity on a golden platter without hesitation.
He hummed softly, tilting his head to the side, staring straight into Madame Criquet’s eyes, and let the woman see the thing inside him. He smiled serenely while the beast beneath his skin danced to the song of Autumn rain. He was a creature of rot and ruin, beautiful and terrible and necessary in all its evil. The mortal flesh he inhabited was thin and weak, a prison of his own creation so he could walk among the little lifeforms that called this realm home.
“Yes indeed, a promise was made. It’d be quite remiss of me to leave it unfulfilled, wouldn’t you say, Madame Criquet.”