Halfway Down
Lilia was not in a good state of mind. He wanted desperately to take his so very vulnerable child away. Away to the Valley where he’d be cherished and revered. Away to moonlight and thorns. He wanted to secret the boy away to the land of the Fae, where neither time nor death would ever touch him.
He forced his more…unsavory aspects back beyond the aether to join his wings. He hadn’t felt that wild since before Malleus’ birth and wasn’t that an interesting thing to consider. He hadn’t been able to feel anything but pure relief and exhaustion after Malleus’ birth and he’d been kept separated from his eldest during those earliest years. It hadn’t been until Maleficia had noticed his absence that things started changing.
He hadn’t been given the time to become attached, to imprint , on his own son . It had taken a long while for Maleficia to start questioning his lack of presence in the castle. He couldn’t resent her for that though. He’d spent centuries wandering, not just for Malleus, but far before his son was even conceived. He’d wandered the world dozens of times over, enjoying the change that took hold of other countries and people.
It wouldn’t have been the first time Lilia had simply disappeared.
She’d gotten suspicious soon enough though. Suspicious and angry. That anger had turned to near-genocidal rage when she’d uncovered the treachery within their senate.
Lilia smiled as he lay down next to his child. Carefully, he stroked the back of his fingers down his wet cheek. He was so small. Even smaller than Silver had been. So terribly, horribly, small. Small like Lilia had been, still was, because that kind of smallness followed its victims. Abuse was a horrible thing that never totally left. Unfortunately, such things were somewhat common among certain species of Fae. Although a fondness for children was prevalent in their race, there were still many Fae who simply did not care for or like children.
Lilia had been one of them, but that was before he’d become a father.
He should’ve seen it. He’d encountered many children in unfortunate circumstances, but this particular instance gripped his heart and twisted . The creature that he was called out for vengeance, for bloodshed, for the thrill of battle, and the sound of cracking bones. He wanted blood on his tongue, on his hands, under his fingernails.
What was different about this time?
This time it was his . A child so scared of their tormentor that they, that he, had instead chosen to bind himself to what his species would consider a monster. And the child did it knowingly. Ah, but that realization had come far too late for Lilia to play with. It was a confounding realization, one that made him rethink every conversation he’d had with the boy. The proof was all there, all things he’d waved away as perhaps instinct or intelligence. Not that the child wasn’t intelligent. Such a calculating little thing he was. He played the half-Fae, snuck his way through the traitor’s words, and made out with an outcome he was most comfortable with.
A worthy child.
A strong child.
Not just in magic, but in intelligence, cunning, resilience. What more was Lilia to do but agree? To take that darling child away from his kin and home at his request? The boy knew what he was doing; the entire time, he’d known . He gave himself over to Lilia without hesitance, even while knowing of the Fae.
Lilia sighed softly, the child’s hair fluttering as he did, and Lilia couldn’t stop himself from smoothing over the errant downy soft hair. He hadn’t tried too hard to resist. He’d practically fallen head over heels for the child the moment the boy had barred his teeth at him in the mirror chamber.
A feral little thing. Lilia nosed the child’s hair, hiding a smitten smile far too soft to show the outside world. His children had made him soft. Only them. Neither Maleanor nor Revan could boast such an achievement. He was more than happy to be the shadow his boys hid in.
“Lord Vanrouge.”
Oh, but he was losing his patience with the humans.
His eyes fluttered open, glaring out from behind his child’s inky black fluff. Blood dripped from them, smearing across the whites, but he cared not for maintaining his hold on false humanity. A woman stood just outside the crooked doorway with close shaved midnight blue hair, adorned with an immaculate suit. A fairy bell twinkled lightly as she stepped gingerly through the doorway. Given her title of address, he’d assume her to be a higher member of government, much more so than the half-Fae. Not many humans would call him by such a title. Or perhaps they were simply attempting to butter him up. He was just as vain as any other Fae, after all, and a little respect could go a long way to smoothing political relations over.
Not that it would work here.
Nonetheless, Lilia forced himself from the bed, though his fingers still strayed to his boy’s wet cheek. He ignored the woman, more focused on smoothing away the tear tracks marring his son’s face. His thumb glided over stretched-thin skin and gritty eyelids and delicate cheekbones poking out far too much. He’d need to feed him well.
The woman waited, as was proper when before something that so vastly outclassed oneself. Lilia was far past caring for Maleficia’s ire. Should he be displeased with the human he’d exact swift punishment. He would know blood this day. Lilia Vanrouge was not in the mood for foolish human trivialities.
He strode the short distance to the chairs and sank into one, crossing one leg over the other, resting his head on a raised fist. Then he graced the ambassador with a look that was more Fae than most wished to see. Coldness, darkness, the intent to harm, and the intense knowledge that he’d find joy in doing so.
He was very much done pretending he wasn’t on the edge of becoming what Maleficia had raised him as. Annoy him and die. Cross him and die. He was the one the Queen had sent and he was the one they’d have to deal with. If they had a problem with that then they’d be dying a lot sooner than they likely wished. How quickly, or slowly , depended entirely on how much they pissed him off.
The woman kept calm, her face frozen in a mask of professional indifference, as she sat in the opposite chair. She had the good sense to bow over the table as she placed a series of files and folders down. Still, Lilia couldn’t and wouldn’t stop himself from tracing his eyes over the curve of her neck, so perfectly within striking distance.
“Speak.”
He wanted her to disobey, to try him, to push his fraying edges. He wanted to unravel and leave her a bloody smear on the wall. His free hand tapped impatiently on the arm of the chair, nails rasping over the coarse fabric. He wanted blood on his tongue, painting the inside of his throat, sliding into his stomach. He wanted the warm, bitter, metallic taste filling him from the inside out.
She spoke.
Unfortunate.
“I’ve come to act as both ambassador on behalf of the Land of Dawning and negotiator regarding the custody of the child found on August 20th. I will be acting as the main contact with the Court of Wards.”
Lilia tapped a finger pointedly against the chair. He’d never been one for needless explanations or long-winded speeches. His time was valuable and it’d be best if the humans didn’t waste it. He could play the silly, goofy, fool all he wanted but at his core, he was still the same he’d always been.
The General, formerly known as Lilia Vanrouge, rolled his tongue over his fangs and sunk a nail into the upholstery. The woman quickly moved on as death and darkness rolled off of him like fog, bleeding his side of the room into depthless night.
Two wine glasses shifted into being on the table, both filled with deep red. The General grabbed his, long fingers scooping under the body of the glass, raising it languidly to his lips. His lipstick smudged across the lip of the glass as thick metallic red slid into his mouth. It was cold, chilled, straight from his fridge back at the cottage. The good stuff he usually only brought out when he had a really good day. Or a day when he really wanted to slaughter a hospital and leave a country devastated. Metallic and lightly spiced, with a burn that warmed your chest the more you drank.
The woman didn’t so much as dare to touch the glass.
“Unfortunately, Lord Vanrouge, I prefer to refrain from drinking on the job,” she muttered. Lilia quirked a fanged smile and licked the blood wine from his teeth. More for him then. He set his glass down with a soft clink and relaxed back with an indulgent smile. Indulgent because the darkness purring inside him wanted to lure her deeper. He wanted an excuse to kill her. To make her slaughter even more satisfying.
“I have with me several plans of action we’ve compiled.” She swallowed thickly, reaching out for a black folder. Her hands trembled faintly as they delved into the darkness of his shadow. Just a little bit closer. All she had to do was lean just a little bit closer. Closer into his shadows and the thousands of hungry mouths hidden in them. “Perhaps we could look over them. If you have any specifications or additions you wish to add then feel free to do so. I am here to act as a bridge between the Court and yourself.”
Don’t shoot the messenger.
What a curious saying; Lilia much preferred to eat them.
“You seem to misunderstand,” Lilia’s voice purred, rumbling from deep in his throat, his accent coming thick, “I am not here solely on behalf of myself and my own personal interests. I am here not as Lilia Vanrouge but as the General of The Land of Briars.”
It was one thing to negotiate with him as a lord or even as a knight. Neither carried too much weight, it allowed more leeway for the humans to act. Leeway Lilia was not inclined to bestow upon them at this time.
Twisted glee stirred sharp and acidic in his chest as her skin paled, her fingers tightening around her folders. Ah but her fear was a delicious thing, an earned thing. It lit up all the little parts of him that shrieked for blood and meat, for fear and a good thrilling chase. Lilia Vanrouge was not a gentle man, had never been one in truth. He could temper himself somewhat, with the stern tutelage of the Zigvolt colony, if only to provide a home for his human son.
“So then, Dear,” she twitched erratically at the mocking endearment, “where shall we begin these,” he paused just long enough to allow her to see just what he thought of her presence, “ negotiations?”
To be fair the only negotiations he’d ever participated in usually ended up with far too much bloodshed. He doubted the woman wasn’t aware of that and there was a certain amount of respect owed to her foolish bravery. Or perhaps arrogance. Either way, The General didn’t care.
“Due to the reaction caused by attempting to keep you and the child separate, the Court of Wards has decided to negotiate terms regarding the child’s custody,” she paused, but The General didn’t say a thing as he watched his drink swirl in his glass, “We’d like to come to an agreement that can satisfy all parties involved.”
The only thing that would satisfy him more than taking his son home was perhaps setting the Land of Dawning on fire. Or slaughtering his way through their capital building. He’d prefer the second option. Seeing the hospital go up in flames would be amusing, however. The little souls flickering a few floors down were partially the reason the hospital was still standing.
“Visitation can be scheduled once the child has been placed in a suitable home or foster arrangement,” She said as she flipped through her folder, taking papers out and setting them in neat piles. Lilia didn’t give them a glance, instead, he latched onto her words. So mote and perfect, she’d obviously said them before, enough times to remember them. She said it as though it were already decided.
“You would attempt to limit my exposure to mine own child,” Lilia said blankly. It wasn’t a question. His cheek twitched up, a mocking smile stretching further. His nail scratched along his glass, leaving a long crack in the crystal. “How cute to think you could stop me.”
The ambassador stared back at him coldly. One of her folders flipped open, filled with transcribed notes. Deftly, the woman flipped through them, pulling a handful free, before placing them flat on the table.
“According to the treatise of 2093 between the then Land of Briars and the Land of Dawning as well as the passed Kingdom of Stars, any child who comes into the custody of a kingdom is subject to that kingdom’s laws and regulations. In this case, the child you found and then relinquished custody of-”
“I did no such thing,” Lilia’s voice cut and seethed, writhing indignation curling in his chest. The crystal in his hand whined, cracking the harder he gripped it. To put such words to his actions, to disrespect him so- the Land of Dawning was treading treacherous waters. He would burn their foolishness into the annals of history, a warning written in bodies for future generations to heed.
“You did.” Her voice was just as calm as it had been since she entered the room, but he could see the way her hands shook and the acid scent of fear that wafted off her. “Upon entering the hospital, you relinquished custody of the child over to the medical professionals. This is standard procedure. Article 4, section 9, subsection D43, details the exact process and the response to each occurrence should they occur. Including but not limited to the appearance of a Fae.”
Something clicked in his head and Lilia’s eyes lit up with understanding, flickering darkly in the shadows he cast. Oh, but it was obvious now. A good game of chess to be sure, even if he planned on destroying the board before the end. Now he could understand why he’d been allowed in the hospital, they'd planned on trying to force his hand. He’d expected something. He’d gone to extreme lengths to ensure they couldn’t take his boy from him.
“That child owes the Land of Dawning his life.”
A spectral snarl shook through the air on a frequency the woman couldn’t hear, rage in every decibel. Lilia’s teeth burned and his fingers itched to rip her throat out. The only one his son owed was Lilia . Lilia owned his life, his soul, his future. He was Lilia’s .
He took a sip of his wine just so he could taste the undertone of blood. He needed to calm down, to remain calm, but restraint had never been a strong suit of his. He was an impulsive person and every impulse inside him was screeching for him to rend, tear, consume. A human had the gall to attempt to claim ownership over his own progeny.
Ridiculous.
Every beat of that child’s heart belonged to him. The blood pulsing through his veins belonged to Lilia. The magic curling around him was Lilia’s . That boy would belong to him for the rest of his life and beyond. There was no magic, no realm, no ritual, no insolent human law that could tear him from Lilia’s hold. He was his to destroy. His to raise, to grow, and create.
“He owes nothing, Human ,” He spat the name like it was a curse, a slur. He spoke it with every ounce of derision he could drum up, a considerable amount given his experiences. Humans were mere mortals. Presumptuous, ambitious little lives, that had no real meaning or effect on time or history.
“My blood runs through his veins. He has given me what he is. I own him, you can not stop me from taking him.” That child held too much potential to let go, in both magic and in Lilia’s heart. He was already so attached.
“That transfusion was unsanctioned-” She rushed, eyes narrowing at him and her hands went back to her notes, but Lilia leaned forward over the table.
“That child lives due to my blood. He lives because I allow it. My claim on him is the blood in his veins as is the right of any Fae. All that bare our blood are ours by right.” It was a threat. A very effective one if her sudden paleness was any indication.
“Any that hold Fae blood are subject to the laws and rule of Her Majesty Queen Maleficia of the Land of Briars and Nightfall,” Lilia purred low and deep, ancient and undying as his people were as he spoke a Truth all of their blood were obligated to answer to. Maleficia was the queen of the Fae, not the queen of Briar Valley. All Fae bowed to her, to the Unseelie who ruled them all.
He leaned closer to her, his nose near brushing her’s, delighting in the terror that glowed like firelight in her eyes as he whispered low, “Our Queen does not like it when her toys are stolen, even if they’re half-blooded bastards.”
“Excuse me,” A small, uncertain, voice called out and Lilia’s head popped up. Relief rushed through him followed by elation. His littlest son blinked, his eyes flicking to Lilia before staunchly gliding away. Ah. He’d annoyed the littlest one then. He’d half expected it, unfortunately. Beings like them did not enjoy having their weaknesses shoved in their faces.
“Excellent,” the ambassador straightened, forcing her fear back as she turned to his child, “you’re awake. You may call me Mrs. Stil. I am the agent assigned to your case. I’ll be taking over Mr. Schwartz’s position as your main contact with the Court of Wards,” she said as though he hadn’t just threatened her, her country, and her country’s people.
Slowly, the boy nodded, his head turning just the slightest bit to Lilia before he snapped back to looking back at “Mrs. Stil”. Oh, but that was absolutely adorable. The silent treatment had been Silver’s favored punishment for Lilia whenever he managed to annoy his second eldest too much.
“Due to your reaction to potential separation from the Fae known as Lilia Vanrouge, we’ve elected to allow your continued acquaintance. To continue our investigation I’ll need to ask you some questions.” Her eyes cut to Lilia, waiting for some hesitance or threat, but none came. The boy had willingly given himself to Lilia, with no manipulation on Lilia’s part, a few questions from a human weren’t going to loosen the hold Lilia had on him. “I ask that you answer to the best of your ability, as truthfully as possible. Until the end of the interview, Sir Vanrouge will remain silent with minimal interaction unless magical intervention is needed. Is this to your satisfaction?”
Lilia raised an eyebrow but leaned back into his chair. A stealthy wave of his hand hid the wine glasses from the child’s sight and he went back to sipping his wine. It was nice to indulge himself a little, but he despised drinking in front of his children. Malleus and Silver both knew too much magic for him to hide it so easily anymore.
The boy sent a startled, uncertain look to him and Lilia smiled as soothingly as he could. The boy’s dependence on him was a good sign. If Lilia remembered correctly, imprinting usually took a little while to fully set in when it came to adopting older children. He’d taken literal centuries to properly imprint on Maleficia. He just needed to nurture a good, solid, relationship with the child, make sure the boy knew Lilia would and could aid him. It was a crucial time in their relationship, one he was determined not to let anything ruin.
The child nodded again, eyes still flicking to Lilia before going back to the ambassador like he was afraid Lilia would disappear at any moment. Lilia relaxed deeper into his chair, crossing one leg over the over, wine glass disguised as his magic pen. A smitten smile tugged at him when the boy watched him and then deliberately leaned back into his pillows and crossed his legs under the blanket. Mab, why did he stop at two children?
“I will be recording during the course of the interview. Anything recorded can and will be used in a court of law if the situation necessitates it.” She looked back at the child before sitting up in her chair like she wasn’t near quaking with terror just being near Lilia. “The date is the 24th of August, 4078. The time is 15:22 P.M.”
Lilia paid acute attention to every word that left her mouth, ready and willing to step in if she tried tricking the child into something. It was ironic that he was more wary of a human managing to trick the child than he was a half-Fae, but that was how the dice fell sometimes. A spark of displeasure festered as the child’s eyes hazed over with boredom. He’d need to fix that. No enemy should be completely ignored unless you were certain they were harmless, that is to say dead . Lilia could afford to ignore the vast majority of beings, but that was a luxury he’d earned through hard work and skill, something the boy had yet to earn for himself.
“Please state your name and age for the record,” the ambassador intoned dully, though intent lurked behind her cool exterior. Lilia rolled his eyes as he lifted his wine glass. How many times did that trick have to be foiled for them to stop using it?
He paused, glass half raised, as something in the boy changed. Something subtle and quiet. He eyed the child. There was something wrong there but he couldn’t pinpoint it. He rolled a mouthful of spice and blood around before swallowing. A finger tapped at his armrest.
I’m turning 13 in July,” The boy’s voice was quiet and empty, a whisper when the child’s mind was a thousand years away. What was the boy thinking of to cause that? What was it about the question that had forced him into such a state? Was it the Name? Yes, it was the second time someone had asked for his Name specifically but it wasn’t any different from when the half-Fae had asked.
Regardless, Lilia could find out at another time. If the child was born in July then he was just freshly a decade old and he was already so eager to enter his teen years. Cute. He really was just a babe.
The boy stared the ambassador down, a firm frown in place, daring her to argue with his lack of Name. She didn’t, of course. Lilia would’ve had to get involved if she tried pushing. It was rude to attempt to force someone to give up their Name and simply Not Done. Lilia would protect it if the boy ever gave it to him, as he did for both Silver and Malleus. Though those two had never actually given Lilia their Names, quite the opposite in fact when Lilia was the one to Name them.
“The child, henceforth referred to as BD394, has neglected to state a name. In accordance with procedure, the case file will be reordered under BD394. Continuing with questioning.”
Lilia nodded slightly in approval. A placeholder was much better for the boy until he either confessed his Name to Lilia or allowed Lilia to Give him a name to go by. The boy looked strangely relieved when she didn’t push. He’d clearly not been exposed to proper politeness and hospitality, typical of humans. Another thing Lilia would have to teach him, though he’d been a remarkably polite child in the time Lilia had observed him.
“Please state your country of origin.”
Lilia perked up subtly, taking a sip of his wine as giddy anticipation swirled in his gut. The chance to explore a new country was exciting, especially when he was nearly certain he’d discovered, infiltrated, and explored every hill, village, town, and city every known country had to offer. There was always something new to see when one was Fae, but waiting for countries to change took so long , and sometimes it just got boring waiting. He could easily spend a century exploring one single country if it was one he’d never been to.
“England,” the boy answered quickly, rote like it wasn’t a question he had to think about or consider. Understandable. The ambassador furrowed her brow minutely before smoothing her expression over. It was amusing how humans never considered that new countries could pop up occasionally. Lilia had been witness to several islands rising from the ocean floor and, though it took centuries, new civilizations often grew on those islands. It was one of his favorite pastimes.
“Do you have any living guardians that can be contacted?”
Lilia smiled slightly, waiting for his name to come from the child. The boy had been the one to give him that position and Lilia couldn’t help but feel smug about it. But there was a moment of uncertainty and hesitance and then-
“Um-” the boy cleared his throat, hunching lower into himself and Lilia began to frown, “I have an…Uncle and Aunt.”
Lilia’s head shot up and he fixed the boy with a Look. He took the words, weighing them. Truth rang from them but it was dissonant, a warbling of something half there half not. He stared at the boy, looking into him, finger tap-tap-tapping at his chair. His nail cut a small rip in the fabric before he mended it. Blood relatives meant competition. He’d have to kill them.
Oh well. Lilia shrugged to himself. The boy might be upset about it, but he’d get over it in a few decades. He didn’t give much thought to what the Land of Dawning might do with the information. It took humans decades just to find their neighboring countries, a new one would take them far longer if it’d lasted so long without being discovered already. Lilia would have ample time to find and dispose of the child’s kin. Now the question was: who abused the child?
It didn’t necessarily have to be the child’s blood relations. Another enemy, an adult in power over him, perhaps even another child, though Lilia doubted it. If he had to guess, it’d be a mentor, a master the child relied on, or his kin. The state of his boy spoke to something long-term, several years at least, and an adult would be the most likely perpetrator. The thought made a certain vindictive acid rise in him, anticipation bubbling up with a thirst for violence. A smile, soft and quiet and a tad too dark for him to show in the presence of a decade-old babe, played at his lips. He swirled the wine in his glass, eyes growing half-lidded as he fantasized about what he’d do once he found those responsible for his newest toy’s condition.
His gaze slid smoothly to the fidgeting child, sensing the rise in him.
“They don’t like me though,” the child sat up straight, staring dead into Lilia’s eyes. Speaking to him, not to the ambassador. The truth of the statement echoed from the boy, ringing metallic with resentment and old hate. And that was hate , not some childish imitation. That was the same kind of hate Lilia held for the past members of the senate, the kind of hate he used to hold for humans. That was real, honest, powerful .
“The topic of relatives will be revisited after all preliminary questions have been answered. Continuing with questioning. Please explain the nature of your injuries to the best of your ability.”
This time Lilia sat up a tad straighter himself. Now this was even more important than finding out who the child’s abuser was. This was an active enemy, one that sought death and brutal violence. The abuser had been much more passive from what Lilia could see, dealing more with starvation or food reduction. Any physical abuse hadn’t left permanent markings big enough for Lilia to see. There were likely small scars that told the tale of survival but Lilia would bet the biggest ones were scattered across the boy’s mind.
“Why does it matter that I got hurt?” The child tried sounding aggressive but all Lilia saw was fear. The boy was a fragile creature pretending he wasn’t hanging on by fraying threads. It mattered. It mattered so very much. Not just because the perpetrator was an enemy, but because it was him . The one injured, nearly killed , was his son.
“The nature of your injuries and the circumstances leading to them will allow us to decide your future placement. Depending on your answers we will compile a list of prospective guardians and narrow down which would be most suitable for your continued care.”
Ah, she was still on that. Lilia wondered if he’d actually have to hurt her to get it through to the Land of Dawning’s government. He wouldn’t be opposed to harming the woman, not at all, but it would be a small hassle to find the time to do it without the child seeing. He’d need to slowly acclimate the boy to Fae culture so he didn’t scare him too terribly much. Of course, a good scare was healthy, but Lilia didn’t want to traumatize the dear before he could twist his tiny little mind to fit Fae customs.
“Mr. Vanrouge is my guardian,” the boy tried to deepen his voice and Lilia had to stop himself from cooing over how fucking cute it was. The poor dear wouldn’t be getting a deep voice for quite a while if Lilia had any control over it. He was not going to let his newest age as quickly as Silver, though Silver wasn’t aging nearly as fast as a human usually would. If his second son weren’t so resistant he’d already be Fae, but no that damn knight just had to have weird Fae-resistant genes.
“Sir Vanrouge would be permitted visitation rights should he qualify for them.”
Hm, yes. He was going to have to kill her. It would be troublesome to find a moment to do it adequately, but needs must. He could, of course, simply curse her but that was so… Seelie . He liked to get his hands dirty himself instead of something so impressional and dissatisfying.
The boy gave her an offended look. Cute. Why was he so damn cute ? He missed when Silver, Sebek, and Malleus were this cute. Now they were all adolescents and acted very uncute at times. Especially Malleus. Sevens what was with that boy? It was like the moment he hit puberty he became all snarky and sarcastic and half the time Lilia was certain he didn’t even know he was being sarcastic. Very uncute of him, but Lilia was glad he was coming into himself a little. Even if he kind of wanted to slap him upside the head at times.
“Please explain the nature and circumstances regarding your injuries.”
The boy let out a soft aggravated hiss and Lilia’s arm jerked reflexively. Clearly, thinking of Malleus’ new acquisition of an attitude had brought back some old instincts. He wondered what the boy’s face would look like the first time Lilia bopped him after getting hissed at. It was bound to happen eventually.
But then the hiss took on a different tone. Something warbling and tinny, lower pitched than how he’d sounded when angry. Lilia’s brows furrowed, frowning softly. He didn’t know what it meant and that was a Problem. The boy’s scent was a mess of fear and anger and vindication.
The child trembled, shivering faintly in his bed, but he hiked in a breath and swallowed. Lilia watched as the boy closed his eyes and steeled himself. He knew whatever the child said would be difficult. Nobody received such injuries without a harrowing tale to tell.
“My school- There was-” his voice warbled again, that very same low sound humming from him. Fear. It had to be some form of fear. It was the only thing Lilia could think of. “A boy, he started attacking other students-” and then the child looked up and his eyes- his eyes were black pits without light. They consumed every ounce of light, greedily taking in every movement. It was fear and anger that reflected back.
Soul deep fear.
The fear for his life.
It wasn’t something easily felt or described. There was a certain clarity that came when you were on the edge of death. When you looked an enemy in the eyes as they killed you. When your mind went blank and all you could do was struggle helplessly in their grip. There was no white light. There was no “life flashing before your eyes”. There was nothing but blankness. To lose control of your body until all you can do is try to survive. You fight and fight and fight no matter how hopeless it is and you don’t stop. You don’t think when you’re dying.
The child wasn’t there. He was gone the moment he started speaking. He buried himself in his mind, away from the feeling of death and survival.
“-He was possessing my best friend’s little sister and making her hurt people. He- We tried- we, my friend and me, we told our defense teacher, ‘cause the boy kidnapped my friend’s sister and we knew where she was, but the teacher tried running away and didn’t want to help but we made him go anyway. And he tried erasing our memories, but that didn’t work and all he did was cause the cave to fall. We got separated though so I had to go on alone. And I found her! I did, but she wasn’t- she wouldn’t- he’d put her to sleep or something ‘cause she wouldn’t wake up no matter what I did.”
He was desperate, looking straight at Lilia and Lilia could do nothing but stare right back. He wouldn’t ignore his child’s struggle. He took in every word, every confession, in a way a human would never be able to. And this was a confession. The child spoke, pleaded with nothing but his tone for Lilia to believe him.
The child trembled , hunching lower into himself, hugging his middle with his one arm. Lilia…didn’t know what to do but listen. It was all he could do. Emotion did not come easily to Fae, not emotion like this. But he could understand a confession when he heard one. He could take this weight the child gave him and he would cradle it. He would bear the weight of it alongside this far too-young child. He wouldn’t let it crush the boy.
“He was killing her. He was killing her. I couldn’t just- he- she’s my best friend’s littlesister. I needed to save her and I tried, but then there was the basilisk and I couldn’t fight it-” The boy folded in half under the pressure of his own confession and Lilia couldn’t sit any longer. He owed a responsibility to this boy and he would do well by him.
He couldn’t stop the child from breaking but he could put him back together again like Revan and Maleanor and Baul had done for Lilia countless times during the war. Lilia knew what it felt like to fail. He knew so intimately well what it felt like to lose. He’d lost so many he couldn’t count. He’d led men and women to their deaths, he’d had to put so many soldiers he’d trained beside for decades out of their misery.
Lilia had once been the too-small boy screaming desperately for someone, anyone , to know he’d tried . He’d fought . He’d stood his ground and failed.
He sat on the bedside and a pale, bruised, scraped hand latched onto his shirt. A lifeline. Lilia could be a lifeline. He could keep the boy afloat as he shattered into pieces.
“I tried- ” he needed someone to know- “I promise . I promise I tried .”
How many times had Lilia screamed those words? To Maleficia? To Malleus? To himself? How many times had he lain upon his bathroom floor and screamed from the loss of them? There was a hole inside of him that would never be filled again, but once upon a time, it’d been stuffed full with the love of the two people foolish enough to love him.
He’d torn his chest open, time and time again, trying to end that wretched pain that was life. He’d ripped his heart from his chest because if they weren’t with him then what use did he have for it?
He grasped the small hand clutching at him. So small, so young. Lilia cradled his child’s head and tugged , bringing him close, crushing him to his chest. He needed to hold him. Lilia needed to cradle him, protect him. His chest was cracking open with every screaming cry the child let loose. He wanted to scream with him, scream and rage and writhe with the pain inside him, the pain that never left. Lilia was a man made up of broken pieces and bleeding wounds that never healed because the only ones that could stitch him together were dead.
The boy went willingly, falling into him like he was just as desperate. Lilia clutched at him, curling over him, burying his nose in the boy’s hair. He needed to be close, needed to remind himself that he was there and the child in his arms existed . He wasn’t a desperate figment of Lilia’s imagination he’d conjured just to distract himself from the lack in his soul.
“I left her alone-” Lilia crumbled, a litany of Maleanor-Maleanor- Maleanor ringing in his head. His lungs spasmed as he pulled in breath after breath of the child’s scent, trying-trying- trying to stay in the hospital and not in a flame-filled forest drenched with the cries of his love and the lifeblood that flowed from her as he ran . “-I left her to die! ”
His nails sunk into delicate skin and Lilia hastily removed them, mending the little wounds before the child could feel the pain. He needed to get a hold of himself. He needed-
He needed-
Lilia gritted his teeth and sunk his teeth into his tongue, drinking down the blood that filled his mouth. He needed to concentrate. His newest needed him there , not stuck four hundred years in the past.
The boy shook and screamed into Lilia’s chest, voice cracking and rising. Tiny nails clawed into Lilia’s back but the pain was grounding. The child shattered apart in his arms and all Lilia could do was hold him, hold him, and try not to break alongside him. The boy’s magic curled into itself, spiked edges turning inward. The ember bright flickered and dimmed, wavering, cooling. Burning orange darkened to umber and then to ash.
Slowly, Lilia’s magic unraveled, fluttering around him in crimson ribbons like the spreading leaves of a flower. It waved and drifted and fell around his child like a cage, to protect him or to restrain him. It was a scarlet web made of delicate strands, blanketing his littlest one in an unending, immortal, sanctuary.
It was the only thing Lilia could think to do.
Slowly, the child’s screaming sobs quieted into a hollow silence, but Lilia didn’t move. It was the silence of desolation. The silence that came with deadly, horrid, thoughts and an all-consuming emptiness. Lilia could smell it, the subtle change in his child’s scent and it was only then that he truly noticed how deathly the boy smelt. Like the child had been drenched in death.
Death clung to him just as surely as it clung to Lilia.
Death and desolation. Isolated and alone. Grief was an all-consuming beast that killed and tore and crumbled away at any ounce of happiness a person had. It was a disgusting smell that spread through the child’s scent, dying him in a blight Lilia was horribly, terribly familiar with. He could feel the way the boy’s shoulders relaxed, leaning harder against Lilia like the gravity of it all was too much for him.
The desire for Death choked him with its familiarity. This child, this decade-old babe, wished for death so fervently, so truthfully, it rotted in his magic. It ate away at the boy’s being like an acid, like an infection.
Lilia clenched his jaw so tightly he could feel the bone crack. The boy wanted to die. This wasn’t some fleeting thought spurred on by sorrow, this was truedesire for Death. For the end of all. And Lilia didn’t know what to do. He’d danced with the desire so often himself but he didn’t know how to stop it in another.
Lilia had wished for death for so long he felt almost numb to it. At seven hundred years old Lilia had tried killing himself so many times he’d lost count. It was almost ironic how he’d gone from a child obsessed with surviving to an adult who couldn’t imagine living another day. The war had pushed that desire to new heights every time he was forced to make a decision his very soul cried out against. Maleanor and Revan and Baul had kept him alive, had been his crutches when it reached new heights. The want for sleep and peace consumed his life so much he struggled getting out of his bedroll. Life had turned into a noose and each time the sun rose that noose rose with it until Lilia was choking.
He’d wanted death so badly. He wanted to escape life because life caused him nothing but pain. It got worse after Maleanor and Revan died. He almost succeeded then, after he’d gotten Malleus’s egg to safety. He’d thrown himself from a cliffside, the tallest one he could find, the most secluded one he could find.
He’d just wanted to fly one last time.
The Valley had been beautiful up so high. The most beautiful it had ever been since he lost his wife and husband. The air had welcomed him as it always had, even with wings that didn’t work. Up there, off the ledge, and halfway down the world below had looked as though it was bathed in gold. Golden light from the sun sinking below the horizon and the stars above taking their places. The deep blues that edged between the borders of day and night and he was at peace. Finally. After centuries.
But then he’d been plucked back from the sky by an enraged dragon. That’s when Maleficia locked him in the tower with Malleus’ egg for decades.
Ink filled his mouth and nose, shocking him from his memories. He slammed back into his body, jolting as his magic connected to darkening ash. The boy had gone silent in his arms, silent and dead even as his magic turned . Negative emotions bleeding in ink across the canvas of the child’s soul, visible only to Lilia.
Overblot.
“That’s enough.” Two words were all he needed, though he wished he hadn’t had to take such a tone with the boy. It was a tone reserved for when his soldiers fought or when Malleus needed to be brought down a peg or two.
The magic shattered, instantly lightening a few shades as he shocked the boy out of his spiral. He sighed, body heavy and exhausted. Lilia tucked the boy even closer to him, settling his cheek on the child’s head. Then he began to purr. It was a low, slow, rhythm building in his chest and vibrating out. He wrapped his magic completely around his son, shielding him.
“Sir Vanrouge-”
His spine tingled, hair rising.
“No. We’ll take a five minute break and then get back to the questions, but we will not be forcing a child to relive such things. Not here, not now. We can continue at a later date, with a proper licensed therapist at hand,” He seethed at the ambassador until the woman relented. He watched, tracking her, as she left the room. Only once door closed did he turn his attention back to his child.
His son pressed his head against Lilia’s chest, nuzzling in and Lilia was helpless to do anything but continue his purring. His shoulders slumped and he curled just the slightest bit tighter around his boy.
“Take all the time you need. I can keep them away for as long as you wish. We can leave, just say the word and I’ll wisk you away someplace they’ll never find you.”
By Mab , did he want to. Maleficia would be delighted to meet the newest addition to their colony and he knew Malleus wouldn’t mind cutting their schoolboy adventures short. The brat would probably celebrate, in his own way of course.
The boy needed, deserved , some peace. Lilia needed a place where he could keep a strict eye on him. His children were not allowed to feel that kind of despair and Lilia needed to ensure his boy wouldn’t attempt anything foolish.
“I left her,” the boy whispered, broken and tired. It was a confession, less to Lilia and more to himself. There wasn’t anything they could do about the past. Things happened and time moved on. It was one of the hardest lessons any Fae learned. It was an indomitable truth to life.
“And that’s okay,” Lilia whispered back, knowing all the while the child wouldn’t believe him. That was okay too. The boy would learn. His child’s life was more important than another child’s. That was just a fact. His son was more important and Lilia would choose him over some other child.
“It’s not,” his son intoned with all the confidence and self-righteousness of a child. But it was okay. Lilia would rather have his son do anything he had to to survive than give up his life for another.
“I rather like you being alive.”
Always.
He was not allowed to die. Not without Lilia’s permission. No child of his would leave his arms without his knowledge and agreement. He’d follow everywhere they went, because what else was he supposed to do? They were his kids. That was that. Full stop. He smiled down at the little head of black hair buried in his chest and it felt a little like he was melting from the inside out. Almost like liquid sunlight was filling his chest the longer he looked down at the precious little thing he’d taken as his own.
Tiny nails pierced through his shirt, digging into his skin, and Lilia didn’t care. He was too far gone.
His.
He hadn’t been alone for centuries but still, there was a certain… fullness that came from bringing another into his family. A child so strong, yet so fragile. The entire colony would have to watch him, but Lilia didn’t think they’d mind. Malleus had adored watching Silver when his second son was small and Maleficia would be just as delighted as Lilia at the new acquisition. His colony kept him whole, kept him sane, kept him alive . They were his anchors to life and perhaps they could be the same for his newest son.
“I don’t want to go back,” the boy whispered softly like he was confessing something grave and heretical. Lilia had to fight back a chuckle too dark for a yet too-human child to hear. The boy was never leaving his side. Centuries would pass before Lilia allowed the child to wander more than a forest away from him.
“Oh Dear, it’s foolish to think I’d let you.”