Golden Lily
It was with great reluctance that Lilia let his boy go and even greater reluctance that he left the bed and sat back in his chair. He resisted looking at Stil. There was no guarantee he wouldn’t kill her outright, not with the state his mind was in, and as little as he cared about killing her, he had no desire to further traumatize his newest child.
Anger was an old, familiar, emotion for him. It was the one emotion he could say with absolute certainty he understood the most. There used to be a time, not too terribly long ago, when he used his anger as fuel to continue living. In truth, he’d used it all his life. As a child, he’d lived solely through spite and the instinctive drive to survive. As an adult, he’d found solace in Maleanor and Revan only for the war to take that solace from him. He’d forced himself through atrocities fueled with the intent to kill every human to come his way. Those few decades, so terribly, awfully, indescribably, long for a Fae after his exile from the Valley had been the worst and hardest time of his life. Back then, he’d lived only for Malleus. For the thought of Malleus. He would not leave his son alone in the world.
Now though, after a decade and a half of peace and love and a warmth he’d never thought he’d be allowed to have, Lilia was dangerously close to acting far too much like the Fae of old. He understood now. He understood Maleficia’s anger, her rage when she plucked him from the sky. It wasn’t just anger. No, anger was a secondary emotion at its core. Beneath that anger was debilitating heartbreak. And truly, it did feel like his heart was breaking. It was an aching, physical, pain that tore away at his chest and dug into the vulnerable flesh of his slow beating heart.
His son’s eyes were blank and hazy, emotionless and dead. It was so horribly, terribly, wrong. It made Lilia want to grab him, to grab those far too-thin shoulders and shake. He wanted to claw at the rotting, broken, pieces of his son’s mind and sew him back together anew. He wanted to sing light and life back into his eyes.
Lilia wanted to scream. To rage like Maleficia had all those years ago. He understood now why Maleficia had locked him away in that tower after his own attempt to rejoin Maleanor and Revan.
“What are the names of your guardians?”
Who did he have to kill? What did he have to do to make this better? How could he heal the festering wounds stretched across his son’s mind and body? How could he make sure this never happened again? How could he make sure his sons never succumbed to the sinking perversion of peace that threatened to drown them? How could he stop them from feeling the overwhelming relief he’d felt when he decided to die?
His child- his son- this newest precious being who laid his heart before him and offered it so freely to Lilia. Why was life so cruel to those who did not deserve it?
Life sparked only briefly in those hopelessly clear eyes and Lilia couldn’t take his own off of that small boy. His son looked at him and that light grew slightly, a moment of clarity, and a serpentine smile curved that gaunt face. There was an old hate and a vindictive, corrosive, anger lurking behind the veneer of that injured, fragile, boy.
Tell me, Lilia urged mentally. Who would Lilia have to steal that child from?
Like he’d heard that mental urging, the boy spoke clearly, meaningfully, “My Aunt’s name is Petunia Dursley and my Uncle’s name is Vernon Dursley.”
Lilia could taste blood on his tongue.
He didn’t try to control it. Their Names were bright and clear to his senses as his devious boy confessed them to him. The impression, the magick, was lessened by the child’s lack of claim on the Names but that didn’t matter over much when the boy’s own magic bled with intent. Lilia could hear the screech of a woman in his ears, the roar of a man, mocking laughter, and shattering glass. He could feel the primal fear of a child faced with an angered adult.
The child’s magic carried it all and more. That tight ball of golden embers unfurled just enough for feathers of light to caress Lilia’s own crimson petal-like magic. His son’s magic felt like sunlight, like honey and fire. And then it drew back into its tight ball, that egg-like sphere that Lilia oh so desperately wanted to see hatch.
His smile, sweet like fermented fruit and molding flesh, like death and decay, grew gentle. His shadow flexed behind him, spanning across the wall before the sunlight banished it. Vengeance twisted in his chest and whetted his tongue. Hunger ached in his stomach, already stoked by the blood wine and his interaction with Stil earlier. He wanted skin between his teeth. He wanted the sweet lullaby of screams, the perfume of fear. He wanted the thick slide of blood down his throat.
His old muscles tingled and twitched with the hope of a hunt. One he wouldn’t get for a good while if his son’s previous guardians were hard to find. But that only made it better. Quick hunts never satisfied him as much as a good, long, drawn-out one.
“What is your Aunt and Uncle's home address?” Stil continued, trying to seem unbothered but Lilia could see the shake in her hands and the small glance she sent him. No doubt she knew well what would happen to any who challenged his claim.
They would die and she knew that. She knew his boy had signed his aunt and uncle’s death warrants without hesitation, with the knowledge of exactly what he was doing and what would come to his relatives. Perhaps she was beginning to understand how futile taking the boy from him was. His son was already so Fae in manner, it’d not be long until Lilia could change him fully. And Lilia fully intended to do so once he’d fully gained his boy’s trust. Hopefully, it’d be easier than turning Silver.
“Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.” The boy pouted as he answered, and Lilia had to force himself not to pull at those tiny cheeks. He was just too damn cute! He couldn’t wait until he fattened the child up. No doubt he’d be even cuter when he was a healthy weight.
Lilia paid attention to the questions, taking note of his son’s answers. He memorized the name of the school his son attended. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, what an interesting name. The term “witchcraft” hadn’t been used in quite a few centuries nor had wizardry. The study of magic was simply called sorcery or referred to by the exact branch of magic referenced.
His son being so young but also attending a magical academy was also something to consider. It wasn’t too terribly surprising though if he considered the little incident earlier. If he’d had the choice he would’ve enrolled Malleus in a magical institute far earlier as well. The senate had made a fuss though and he’d had to nix the idea. He could acknowledge the wisdom in not allowing Malleus out of the Valley when he was younger though. That boy had an unfortunate talent for evading his guards and an even more unfortunate habit of acting out magically when he was upset. He would’ve frozen a preschool solid if Lilia had enrolled him in one.
Children usually weren’t exposed to magical tutelage until they were well into their teen years, Fae and prodigies were often the only exemptions. No one wanted to risk a child falling into overblot.
It was already such a prevalent issue with this one, Lilia feared what would’ve happened if he’d decided not to accompany the child or take custody of him. He’d need to get the boy a few piercings and a primary magestone too. Perhaps even a staff if it came to it.
He’d also have to look into how old his son would get naturally. If his son was right and his headmaster was over a hundred years old then Lilia would have to see if that was a trait of the boy’s species and just how long his natural life expectancy was. Though, if he did live over the usual life expectancy of non-Fae Lilia likely wouldn’t get to see him all grown up. He’d have to make sure Malleus, Maleficia, and Silver looked after him once that time came.
He was shocked out of his thoughts by the agent’s phone alarm going off. She packed her things efficiently, quickly, clearly eager to get away from him no matter how much she tried to hide it. Not that he blamed her. It was simple self-preservation, even if she’d been astonishingly lacking in such.
“That’ll be all for today. Sir Vanrouge, the Court will be in contact with you. For now, you are free to take BD395. However, this is not a permanent arrangement. Until the case is closed, you’ll be subject to frequent home checks, both scheduled and unscheduled,” he would very much like to see any government attempt to infiltrate NRC unannounced and uninvited. It’d be hilarious to see just how quickly Dire demolished them physically and then legally. The woman turned to his son, back tense and hands twitching subtly.
“If under any circumstances, you find yourself needing help, call this number. The Court will send someone to retrieve you. Have a good day gentlemen.” He barely acknowledged her bow in favor of watching the shocked stare of his charge. The boy watched her leave with a flabbergasted look and wide eyes.
Then they were alone, and the boy was his to take home. Well, not quite home yet. To NRC. Lilia would’ve much rather take the boy to his cottage to get him settled in or, barring that, the castle. His cottage didn’t have a third room yet, though, so he’d have to have that built before he brought the boy there.
A wheezy, breathless, laugh drew his attention to his boy. His delightful, precious, boy. He was going to make it a personal mission of his to make that boy laugh more. Children deserved to laugh freely and often.
He stepped closer and drew a hand through the child’s greasy hair. Truly, they’d have to get him a bath as soon as possible, but that could wait a little bit longer. For the moment, he’d simply enjoy what he could.
His new charge looked up at him like he was a wonder and Lilia had to stop himself from nuzzling into his head. The little dear didn’t know how precious he was, how wanted and cherished he already was. Lilia would honor him, would protect him, for as long as he was able. No matter how little life he had left in him. For as long as he had, Lilia would make sure this tiny child knew how much he loved him. How attached Lilia was to him already. He was a part of Lilia’s colony now, the youngest in the most powerful colony in Twisted Wonderland. As small as they were, Lilia knew his sons and mother would adore the boy. It might take a little while for his boys to warm to the idea of a younger brother, but he had faith that they would. He was prepared to monitor any fights between them, to curtail any dominance issues between the boy and Silver.
He still needed to do some research into human child interactions and how their hierarchies worked. He couldn’t ask the Zigvolts about that like he would’ve anything else child-related. Half-Fae children tended to act more Fae than human even if they physically tended to take after their human blood.
It’d hopefully be fine but Lilia didn’t want any issues between them. His first and second sons came before this newest one and he’d prioritize their happiness and wellbeing first. If Silver and his new son didn’t get along and no amount of work would help then Lilia would find a new family for the boy. He could leave the boy to Maleficia in that case and keep the boys separated while still being able to be near the child.
That was a worst-case scenario though. If all went well he wouldn’t have to contemplate such things.
“I’ll go see when we can get you out of here, hmm? Just sit tight, I’ll be right back,” he said softly. The boy’s hand jerked towards him, an aborted move to grab him, to keep Lilia there with him.
Good, very good. It’d only been a few hours of them truly knowing one another, not counting the days the dear had spent unconscious, and for the boy to already be attached to him was an incredibly good sign. Healthy imprinting would make it far easier for Lilia to tend to the boy.
Still, it rankled his nerves to leave the boy so soon after the officials had attempted to take him. Regardless, it was best to get the boy out of the hospital and back to neutral territory where Lilia could guard him better. But first, he’d need to get the boy out of the hospital and to some food. The poor dear’s stomach had been growling since he’d woken up, even if the child had done a remarkable job ignoring it. Lilia would ensure the boy never had to ignore a rumbling belly ever again. Never again would he go hungry, not while he was under Lilia’s guardianship.
He pranced from the room quickly and made his way to the nurses’ station not far from the room. He snatched his phone from his pocket, thankfully still intact after the boy’s episode, and swiped through his contacts until he got to Silver’s. Malleus never answered his phone. Honestly, Lilia doubted the boy even realized it was a communication device to begin with. The two were hopefully at the shopping center just on the coast near Sage’s Island. He was feeling surprisingly good physically, and magically for that matter, but he didn’t want to strain his body or magic too terribly much while he still had the boys to look after. As long as he didn’t do anything too extravagant, he should be perfectly fine to teleport both himself and the boy to the shopping center and then to Sage’s Island. With how good he felt he might even be able to make dinner for the boys!
“Father?”
Ah, it was just like Silver to pick up on the first ring. He needed to get that boy some friends his age. He needed to loosen up and as much as Lilia loved Sebek, that boy just wasn’t the “loose” type.
“Hello, dear, would you and Malleus still be at the shopping center? Have you gotten everything you desired? I'm just about to check our newest addition out of the hospital, so get anything else you want quickly.” He sent a smile to a passing patient who quickly speed-walked away. Why were humans so weird and impolite?
“We’re finishing up now,” there was a bit of a scuffle on the other end, quick indistinct mutterings between the two boys.
“Ah, good,” what ingredients did they have at the dorm? He was fairly certain there was something he could make for his boys. Some shared suffering would bring them together, he was sure, “I’m thinking of making dinner once we get back to Diasomnia; is there anything you’d like in particular? I can make your favorite!”
Suddenly the other end went quiet. And then there was a muffled mechanical shuffling. The crinkling of plastic made him pull the phone away from his ear. There was a muffled yelp and what sounded suspiciously like Malleus growling out a curse followed by Silver hissing back. Lilia rolled his eyes with a sigh.
“Or I could try making something new!” That better get their attention. Lilia was not oblivious to his sons’ dislike of his cooking, the ungrateful little brats, nor was he unwilling to use that to his advantage.
The scuffle on the other end stopped abruptly and Silver’s near frantic voice came back, albeit with hushed urging from Malleus. They bickered like he couldn’t hear them, hissing and growling at one another with increasingly creative insults. Sebek would have a stroke if he knew how the two of them acted when they thought nobody was around.
“Perhaps we could simply dine out? Malleus and I are quite hungry, and the dorm kitchen may not be stocked adequately yet. The restaurant Malleus prefers is quite close to us; we could go there and wait for you?”
Lilia pouted but that restaurant really was very good. It typically catered to beastfolk and offered their meats raw and blue which was simply fantastic when he wanted a steak. They’d surely have a good meal for their newest. Besides, Silver adored their mushroom risotto. Malleus would eat the entire menu if Lilia let him.
“Oh very well then. Make sure to call ahead. It’d be rude if we simply showed up out of nowhere.” Lilia chuckled to himself when he heard Malleus celebrate in his own way on the other side of the call.
“Yes, Father,” Silver rushed out, voice faintly strained, another scuffle breaking out before the line went dead. Lilia stared at his phone for a moment.
Those boys…
He shook his head and firmly decided he was going to stay out of it. They could handle their own…whatever it was they were up to. They’d come to him if they were bleeding or dying. Hopefully. He really hoped his newest was more laid back and tame once everything calmed down.
He shook his head again as a wave of foreboding traced down his spine and quickly rushed over to the nurses’ station. Lilia did not want to think about the chaos potentially awaiting him if that boy actually was too much like him.
A quick but tense interaction got him the attention of one of the nurses who’d taken over after the whole blood transfusion ordeal. He was given a terse overview of his charge’s status again, though he still had the packet of papers the original doctor had given him. And then they were off to the room with a wheelchair in tow.
Evidently, the boy would need it for the next few weeks until his muscles regrew enough to handle walking and the rest of his body came to a form of equilibrium with the Fae blood in his veins. His blood transfusion had ensured the boy wouldn’t be afflicted with any long-term issues, but it’d take a little while for it to cycle through his body. Fae blood was, after all, thicker and colder than that of most other species. He’d need to keep a close eye on his child’s temperature and any potential dizzy spells. He’d need lots of red meats and iron-rich, Lilia couldn’t resist a giggle, veggies.
The boy’s expression instantly dropped the moment they entered with the wheelchair. The boy scowled, looking astonishingly like Revan for an instant before Lilia banished the thought. Odd thought. Revan only rarely scowled or allowed his displeasure to be seen. Maleanor and Lilia made up for their beloved’s more subtle attitude enthusiastically.
“I don’t need a wheelchair,” the boy said grouchily, looking desperately like he wanted to cross his arms petulantly. Lilia grinned back at him.
“Yes, you do,” Lilia sang. It was adorable how the boy scowled even harder. In the future, he’d have a truly terrifying glare, but for now, he simply looked positively precious. Completely fucking adorable. Too cute. He wanted to pinch his cheeks and pull, but he restrained himself.
“My arm’s the thing that’s messed up, not my legs . Why do I need a wheelchair?” The boy huffed as the nurse helped move and position him. Lilia could hear the soft snickering from the nurse and spared them an amused grin. Oh, Lilia could remember similar arguments he’d had with Maleficia back when he was younger. He’d gotten hurt far more often than Maleanor or Revan and eventually the castle physicians had simply resorted to running to Maleficia whenever Lilia was a brat about his treatments.
“Well, the nurses and doctors say you need it,” Lilia replied, unconsciously mimicking Maleficia’s more tame response to his own brattiness. He hummed when the boy ducked his head. Well then. Perhaps he could go to Maleficia for advice handling the dear if he got rowdy once he was comfortable. He could almost hear her cackling, her voice mocking him in the back of his mind.
“What goes around, comes around, my son,” she’d once said to him during one of his more…rebellious phases. A shudder ran up his spine, his hair rising up his neck. It felt like a bad omen. Mab help him if the boy turned out like him. Lilia didn’t think he’d survive such a thing. He’d go mad.
Or be the first Fae to have a heart attack.
Lilia reached out on reflex, gently pushing a wild curl out of his boy’s face. His nail caressed softly across his cheek. It really would be his luck to get a son just as wild and reckless as he himself was. Revan would’ve laughed and called it karmic balance or something else inane.
He watched like a hawk as the nurse gently helped his littlest one into the wheelchair and pressed a bright yellow wing-shaped lollipop into his son’s hand. He nodded as the nurse showed him how to arrange the boy’s arm in a sling. Then he got the boy’s prescription information and when he’d have to have his check-up appointments. He’d get those from the royal physician, but it was still useful to know when he should take the little dear to get checked out.
The boy didn’t say anything while Lilia and the nurse spoke. He barely acknowledged them, and Lilia forced back a small, concerned frown, narrowing his eyes at the boy instead. He’d have to see what that was about once the nurse left, and they were far enough away to not be overheard. He waited a moment after the nurse left to grab the chair and push the boy out.
“What’s wrong, Little One?” He asked, taking to the air behind the chair. He gave a mocking grin to the pair of guards standing outside the maternity ward. Their eyes followed him as he floated past. It was a little funny they thought a pair of guards would be able to stop him if he really wanted to steal one of the infants hidden behind those doors.
“Nothing.” He watched as a hot flush spread across the boy’s cheeks and he curled into himself a bit more. Now that just wouldn’t do. No, no, not at all. His boy should be happy and carefree, and Lilia would be damned before he willingly left him to stew in whatever anxieties were running wild in that active little mind.
Lilia hummed low and let his magic seep from him. The boy more than likely wouldn’t feel it consciously, but he couldn’t help the action. It was normal for Fae to communicate through magic, to connect and interact with the one thing none of them could hide or trick or manipulate. They were a tricky people, but magic was everything to them. So, Lilia let his poke playfully at his newest’s skin, poking at the little ball of magic kept tight in the boy’s chest. His ears twitched up when a small tendril of magic unraveled from that ball and hesitantly reached out too.
“I highly doubt that. You’ve had a terribly rough time these last few days. I’m sure you’ve questions at the very least,” he said almost absently, still too absorbed in watching that magic slowly fan out.
“Where’s my stuff?” The boy whipped around, and Lilia forced himself to focus on him instead of the delightfully interesting gleaming magic questing out to examine him. He was glad to though because he got to see the moment the boy realized he was floating. Those draconic eyes went wide and utterly delighted. Greed and hunger sparkled in them with all the intrigue of a Fae learning something for the first time.
“How do you do that,” the boy demanded and it truly was a demand, not that Lilia minded all too much. It was adorable, but unfortunately, not something the boy would likely be able to learn. Levitation was a common skill for Fae and wasn’t often seen outside the Fair Folk.
“I do it because I want to.” Which was just about the answer to anything regarding magic and Fae, but it was still hilarious to watch the boy’s face twist in annoyance.
“That’s not an answer,” the boy said smartly, squaring his tiny shoulders. Lilia couldn’t wait to see him in a Diasomnia uniform. He’d be just adorable in the faux military garb. He couldn’t banish the thought of what he’d look like grown up, taller than him, dressed in the traditional Briar Valley military uniform. Or perhaps in something more regal. He’d be devastating in court formal wear. Especially if Maleficia gave him leave to dress the boy in the royal colors.
Lilia grinned unrepentantly. The poor dear would get his cheeks pinched and squeezed by every Lady there. Lilia would have to fight off would-be thieves and he’d gloat the entire time.
“Yes, it is.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” The boy tried hiding his amusement, but Lilia saw right through him. His grin split his face in half, only somewhat metaphorically, and Lilia poked at the child’s magic. His happiness flowed through his magic, straight into that questing tendril and then a smile began to grow across the boy’s face too.
“Do I?” He couldn’t resist the urge to play. He was Fae and Fae played games and this little game was a popular one among parents. Little word games and twisted meanings that brought out the cunning sides of their fledglings. It was just a little bit of light-hearted fun, just something to nudge at the little instincts that made them who they were. And to his delight, the child tried fighting down a smile and lost.
“ Yes, you do! ” Pearly, singing, giggling, laughter spilled from him, and like magic, the air seemed to clear. That ball of magic jumped and wiggled with giggles of pealing joy. It flickered like a bonfire and swayed with every laugh.
It was adorable, amazing, completely and utterly enchanting and Lilia just couldn’t help himself any longer. He reached out and snagged a hold of one warm little cheek and pinched.
“Oh, you are just the cutest.”
The boy’s face positively bloomed red. It stretched across his cheeks, heating under Lilia’s fingers, down his neck, and up over round little ears.
“Boys aren’t cute!” He laughed out, tilting his head down towards his shoulder, trying to stop Lilia from pinching him. Not that it would work. Lilia had centuries of experience teasing his boys and he was not going to be thwarted by a babe. Oh, but Lilia was going to have to remedy that little belief of his. Fae didn’t follow that old mentality of masculinity and femininity, not when so many of them were shapeshifters who lived far too many centuries to stick to one.
“Of course they are. Just look at me, I’m positively adorable,” he sang as he pushed the boy through the hospital doors into golden light. The boy squinted as sunlight washed over him, curling away from the light like a nocturnal Fae before he grew used to it. Lilia hummed contemplatively, thoughts spinning before he pushed them away and let go of the child’s cheek.
“How about a late lunch, hmm? I can hear your stomach growling. I did tell Malleus and Silver to pick up some clothes and such for you and I’m sure they’re just chomping at the bit to meet you.”
In the end, it didn’t matter what the boy was. Human, Fae, Beastfolk, or Mer; Lilia would love and adore him all the same.