Better Late Than Never
of-depravity:
@lionessmalva
The day he learned he’d been orphaned, his mentality crumbled. He’d been solemn and quiet for a couple weeks, and his sleep patterns grew irregular. There was more drinking, more anger, and less responsibility, but after celebrating Lysandre’s birthday a couple weeks later, his psyche returned to how it has always been. Still unstable, but manageable. But Lys? Malva? The day lysandre had died, followed a few days later by Malva’s disappearance… That week was one that left long-term wounds in his heart, and no amount of shirking his duties or avoiding speech would heal him. When his parents had died, he’d been dubbed an orphan in the eyes of the law. When Lys and Malva left him, he felt alone; completely, and utterly alone. And after weeks of volatility, half-assed therapy, and trudging through medication, he left as well. Unova had only pressure and Kalos, only ghosts. So he wandered.
Part of it is his fault, really. Malva had sent letters. Lots of them apparently. But he hasn’t been home in months. There’s no way he could have read them, obviously, but he’s the one who chose to avoid his permanent mailing address. He’d left, and he’s at fault for that. But Malva? Hah. When she finally fucking calls him, invites him to hear truths he already knew. That’s what sends him over the edge.
When he arrives, he’s certainly in a better state of mind than he’d been prior to his reunion with Lys, but he’s not happy, and certainly not stable. There are years of problems for him to sort through, and no amount of medication and talking is ever going to wipe that from his life. But at the very least, he hopes, maybe he can fix things with his remaining family. He doesn’t want to lose them again, now that he’s gotten them back.
Malva waits for him in front of his family manor. He’s not returned here in months, instead leaving it to servants and distant acquaintances. Surprisingly, nothing has changed since his last visit. On the outside, anyway. Emotionally, everything is different. Malva seems tired, and distantly Grimsley wonders how much of her public identity is exaggerated and how much is actually her.
“Malva…” Biting his lip, he hesitates, but ultimately pushes away any thoughts of formality. He hugs her, tightly, vulnerability surfacing in his posture. “I missed you,” he hisses. “So fucking much…” And in that moment, he is no longer the esteemed Grimsley Crowden, elite four trainer of the Unova League and nobility of Kalos, but the scared child she once knew.
Motherhood is never something that’s held much appeal to Malva. At least not that early bit. Taking someone under her wing, guiding them along, that she can do. Still, she would certainly never call herself a mother. No, but she could admit to being something like one for Grimsley. It had been impossible not to step into those shoes when Lysandre had taken his nephew in. Grimsley needed guidance, a gentle hand to lead him along and a word of advice now and then to teach him how to handle those that got in his way.
And then she had abandoned him.
It hadn’t really been a choice. Not an intentional one anyway, but when she had needed to pick between Lysandre and the rest of the world, well... it wasn’t really much of a choice at all. Grimsley just happened to be unfortunate enough to fall on the other side of the line that had needed to be drawn. Nothing personal, of course, simply the way things had to be. It’s not as though she thought he had presented a danger, but no one could know the truth.
The letters had been an attempt to reach out, to stay in touch, but a shallow one at that. She could admit as much. Still, it had been far more than she had done for most others. Reaching out in any other way could have drawn unwanted attention, created unnecessary risk, and that could not be allowed.
But now, he knows. So there’s no point in hiding any longer.
She greets him with a small, but genuine smile, something rather rare for her. The hug is a bit of a surprise, but she wraps her arms around him just as tightly, one hand moving gently up and down his back. “Oh darling, I missed you as well.”
And maybe it’s because she hasn’t let herself think about it, hasn’t let her thoughts dwell there for more than a moment, but it suddenly strikes her just how much truth there is to the words. Pulling back just a little, she reaches up and cups his face in both hands. “Oh, dear, you look dreadful.” She sighs and moves to fuss with his hair. “It really has been far too long.”
