Ohhhh perhaps spyscrapper for 38? On the kiss prompt list??
38. ...running out of time
Bode’s breathing is heavy, loud, fast. Full, billowing breaths he can’t seem to slow down. He’s teetering at the edge of a breakdown. He’s been teetering at the edge of a breakdown for weeks, but it’s really here now, no longer a fantom haunting his shadow but reality, inhabiting his body, making his fingers numb and his heart race.
It’s not the edge. He’s falling off. The comm is in his hand, his finger hovers over the button, and he has to make the call. If he doesn’t make the call today, the Empire won’t be here tomorrow, the Archive and the Path will move to Tanalorr and it will be ruined.
Exposed.
Unsafe.
And he’ll have lost his last, his first, chance-hope-dream. The first breath of fresh air he’s had in. Four years? Is that it, four years? Four years with his leash getting shorter and his collar getting tighter, tighter, tighter, sold to the only bidder for a golden cage for his little girl that will become an iron trap if he so much as misses two check-ins in a row?
He’s lurking in the corner but he needs to go outside so he can fall into pieces privately. But. Cal and Merrin are still out there, aren’t they?
He wants to beg Cal to make a different choice, get on his knees and cry, but if he does then… his desperation won’t make any sense, after Cal already reassured him. After Cal thought he did and ripped the rest of Bode’s meager hope to pieces instead. If he does, all his secrets will spill out. If he does, even this meager, desperate last chance where he loses everything but Kata will disappear.
Cal doesn’t forgive betrayal- not if it comes from the Empire.
And Bode is part of the Empire, no matter how he feels about it. He sold himself.
Death followed him long before that.
The next exhale sounds too wretchedly close to a dry sob for his liking, and he clamps a hand over his mouth, doubled over, a steadying arm against the wall. His vision swims and darkens, his nostrils bellowing with each panicked breath.
A hand presses to his shoulder. His back all but slams against the wall as he yanks himself away.
Cal’s hands lift up, held out by Cal’s shoulders, as the redhead takes a step back. “Sorry! I was calling your name but I don’t think you heard me.”
Bode didn’t hear anything. Not a thing. What was he thinking? Doing? He wasn’t thinking that was the problem.
Cal must see something in his face, because he steps forward again, frowning, concerned. He reaches out again but slowly, his hands gently framing Bode’s shaking shoulders before curling around his upper arms. “Bode, it’s okay. Breathe with me. Let’s just calm down, and then we can talk, get you some water maybe. Okay?”
Bode clenches his teeth together, presses harder into the wall. “Bode, hey. Hey. We’re fine, okay?” A damnable smile blooms, Cal’s green eyes sparking warm, the man reaching out for him in the Force, wrapping him up in Cal’s fiery presence like a reassuring blanket, and Cal says: “tomorrow we’ll move and we’ll all be safe and everything will be alright.”
Bode’s breath stops. He slides down the wall until he’s sitting, and his insides are all ashes. His hand shakes as it falls from his mouth and he can’t see Cal for the tears falling from his eyes.
Cal, kriffing Cal. Why did Bode have to fall for him? An idealist. A man who can’t see danger staring him in the face. Who can’t listen to the reasonable voices around him, and yet who is so good that they can’t help but let him lead over and over again.
Cal only scoots closer, cradling Bode’s face between his hands and pressing their foreheads together. “I’ve got you. Breathe with me. We Jedi,” Cal jokes, trying to ease the moment, “we’re really good at breathing, you know.”
Kriffing Cal. Bode wants years with him. A lifetime.
“I’m s-sorry,” he whimpers, gripping the sleeves of Cal’s jacket. He gets tonight, and then nothing. Nothing after that. Never.
There’s no more time.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.”
Cal will change his mind tomorrow. He’ll understand tomorrow. They’re over, tomorrow.
Bode turns his head. His lips press into the heat of Cal’s palm, mark it with his sorrow.
This is their first and last time.
There’s nothing inside him he’s allowed to give.
Nothing worthy of Cal
Theses two are Stoic’s and Spitelouts moms (as young women before they had kids)
On the left is Sunna Haddock, Sunny for short.
On the right is Weeping Freya Jorgensen, Freya for short. (Duh)
She gained the nickname “weeping freya” from her family due to her crying at everything when she was a toddler. (Every Jorgenson gets their title from a trait they did a lot when they were little, it’s more of a friendly-tradition than a malicious one since they can change it when they’re older.)
(Lore below if you wanna read it)
Sunny was bright and optimistic. still believing in childhood fairytales, loving life and all it’s mess (even from her sheltered life of being the chief’s only daughter), she doesn’t know her mother due to her dying early on in her childhood while her father wrapped her in cotton wool and was hardly around much doing his chieftly duties. Despite her cold family she was warm and bright with her nose always stuck in some book, she had a love for knowledge and stories.
Freya comes from a big family of farmers and butchers (Scandinavian+german), she’s the youngest of five brothers and lives a busy life proving she’s just as good as her dumb brothers to her stubborn father (he’s partially deaf from a Thunderdrum attack years ago, he yells 24/7) though her mother has tried time and time to make her a Fine Lady, her strong heart always lead her to be a wild Woman.
•
The two were childhood friends, Sunny would sneaked out of her father’s sight and visit Freya while she tended the animals. They would watch the clouds together and sometimes stalk the local terrible terrors. Sunny was intrigued by dragons, she wondered where their fire came from while Freya always ended up yanking too hard on their tails, making them fall off and wriggle causing the girls to run home screaming.
As they grew from girls to women, Sunny’s life was already planned for her by her Father while Freya became a great business woman selling meat since she wasn’t distracted much by men having her mind set on her goals than getting married.
When Sunny met her husband to-be; Valr, he seemed charming and friendly with his blue eyes. he’d immediately caught Sunny’s affection, She believed the love they had was like something in her fairytale books.
Freya thought otherwise, she saw how he looked at other women behind her back. She knew he would ask too much of her.
Sunny’s wedding day was beautiful, adorned with spring flowers and white. Everyone was happy and smiling for the married couple while her bride maid Freya couldn’t help but feel her heart wince in pain. It was Sunny’s last day of being truly happy.
After that day, Sunny didn’t spend much time with Freya like she did before. Whenever Freya caught sight of her, she looked dull and exhausted beside the new chief Valr.
He was tightly strung and horrid, always demanding whatever he wanted from the people. Freya hated the brute.
As a few months went on, Valr was bored of the mundane until Sunny went away voyaging to settle a massive disagreement on berserker island.
Freya was just picking blackberries in the late evening when she came cross Valr, drunk as a mule outside mead hall from his own party. Freya wanted to simply ignore him but he suddenly struck her down and… I think you get what happened.
Sunny came back to her husband, he warmly embraced her when he saw her at home. She was happy to finally be greeted with warmth instead of bruising.
Soon Sunny got pregnant. She was excited to be a mother. though Valr wasn’t particularly fond at the idea of being a father at all, though he humoured his wife.
Freya did what she did best and weeped in her room. Hiding the withering pain she held inside.
Freya became pregnant, her family found out and forced her to keep it. She felt utterly bitter and betrayed by her family, she wanted to tell sunny what he did but the thought of ruining her perfect life wrecked her. She loved that woman so much, so she kept silent.
Soon Sunny had her Son, Stoic the Vast. She was overwhelmed with joy with her chunky baby boy. Her son became her entire world, She even had a chest full of toys ready for him to play with.
Freya.. didn’t really click when she had Spitelout, despite having him in her arms and feeding him. She felt nothing about her son, making her feel horrible for not loving this child she didn’t even want but couldn’t put down. He was here now and she had to care for him.
As a month went by, Freya was struggling with balancing work and parenting; Spitelout was constantly crying and always wanted to eat. He was glued to her side, her family weren’t much help either since it was her mess and she had to deal with it. (Typical Jorgensons’ shit)
While Sunny couldn’t keep her hands off Stoic, she loved his chubby cheeks and baby blue eyes. She took him everywhere she went, Valr didn’t mind Stoic. though he did see himself in his son and it made him feel good in some way but Valr made it his life’s goal to avoid Freya when he was out with Sunny.
Soon Freya couldn’t handle it anymore, she felt like a failure. No matter how hard she tried Spitelout kept crying. She was on the brink of doing something terrible to spitelout, but instead she packed her things and left Berk. Leaving him on the chief’s doorstep.
Sunny didn’t know why Freya left so suddenly or why she left Spitelout behind, but she took him in and cared for Spitelout nonetheless. Valr hated that spitelout was under the same roof as his wife and son, he was nothing but a waste but despite the countless arguing of Valr trying to convince her to just leave spitelout for the wolves, Sunny rejected such an idea.
For four years the haddock’s lived soundly, Stoic and Spitelout grew up as brothers despite Valr pure hatred for his bastard though he was always voyaging somewhere else being unfaithful. Sunny loved spitelout like he was her own, though his black hair and his green eyes always made her reminisce about Freya.
Stoic and Valr’s relationship was fine, he taught him how to be Brave man. He even encouraged him to smash his head against a rock (though against Sunny’s wishes) and smiled greatly when it split in half. While Sunny taught him everything she knew from her books, teaching him be a smart and intelligent man so when he became chief he would be brilliant.
Spitelout and Valr’s relationship was… nonexsistant, he wanted nothing to do with the boy. Even when Spitelout wanted to spend time with him, he rejected him bluntly. Even to the point of physical abuse and cursing him to the gods when sunny and stoic weren’t around, it’s how Spitelout got the scar across his eyebrow. Sunny however was the mother he didn’t have (despite knowing sunny his entire existence, he thought for the longest time she was his mom)
Sunny did try to get spitelout to spend time with his Jorgenson family (even if some of them were resentful of him) but at the end of the day he came back to the chief’s hut with his brother by his side, Spitelout loved Sunny dearly and thought she was his mom for a long time since she treated him with love and kindness.
When spitelout was five and stoic turnt six, Sunny had the pleasure to greet the new Vikings that had migrated to Berk to live there. Among them was Freya, Sunny was so delighted to have her back.
She introduce Freya to the boys and let Freya stay at their hut since Valr was away. Spitelout finally got to meet his birth-mom and was kinda taken aback since he looked a lot like her, which made her sob since she feared he would’ve looked like him.
Freya did tell Sunny about what happened and how it effected her relationship with Spitelout.
it made Sunny cry and feel horrible about the man she’d married. She let Freya stay in her hut (since Freya’s family still wasn’t helping Freya much)
until Valr came back, they lived together happily. Sunny felt proper joy in a long time with Freya be her side, the two’s feelings grew stronger by the day. Both the boys started to call them both mom, stoic liked having Freya around since she was super brave and super strong.
Sunny and Freya went out to the blooming field they once wandered in as kids. They adorned flower crowns and watched the clouds past, soon Freya finally confessed she loved her since forever. Sunny kissed her in the sunlight.
The two wedded themselves in secret, inspite of sunny’s marriage to Valr. For a short period of time they were a happy.
Until Valr came back to find Freya in his her bed with his her wife.
He threw freya and Spitelout out, saying if they ever crossed paths they would be executed on the spot.
Freya’s family finally welcomed her back, thinking she had come back to her senses. while spitelout felt deep betrayal.
The two hardly saw each other due to Valr, Stoic and Spitelout grew distant due to the Jorgensons stubbornness. Freya’s family found her a man to marry once and for all, in the end she didn’t fight it.
On Freya’s wedding day she cried, she was not marrying her true love but a bargaining chip to better live stock for her family. Sunny couldn’t do anything but watch.
Freya’s husband wasn’t horrible or brash, she just didn’t love him the way she loved sunny. He didn’t mind that Freya had Spitelout and tried to be the father spitelout needed (though Spitelout HATED him deepily), after her wedding it spiralled from there.
Freya had spun into a depression, she didn’t care what spitelout did. She let him ran wild while she did her best to regain what little reputation she had left, along the way she got pregnant a few times from her husband (after partially breaking down the walls she built).
In the end Freya stopped working and let her husband take over her work while she tended the kids (she didn’t feel that weird uncomfortableness like she did with spitelout, she felt like an actual mom) though Spitelout grew loud and rebellious, always running off and training to deal with dragons instead of helping the family business.
Sunny had started to fade, Valr had caught syhpllis from a common streetwalker on his travels and spreaded it to her, she soon grew too weak to move and couldn’t leave her hut for anything. All she could do was read her once beloved stories as she faded away. Stoic did his best to be a good son, bringing new books to her but Valr wanted him to focus on more “important things” than his sickly mother.
Freya and Spitelout had a nasty fight once when he was a teenager, He demanded to know why she didn’t care for him like she did for his siblings. The fight got bigger and bigger until it exploded and she told the truth, it made his world crash into fire.
He ran away to The chiefs’ hut, Valr was at mead hall throwing another party. Spitelout needed to see Sunny. All he ever wanted was the Warmth and love he had so very long ago, once he was inside he saw what was left of Sunny. She was barely there and hardly knew who he was but she still called him her baby regardless and caressed his face lovingly, Stoic watched from the doorway as spitelout crumbled into her lap sobbing.
The day Sunny’s passed, everyone was there to give their respect to their beloved Chieftain, Valr was nowhere it be seen.
Freya gave her one last kiss before her boat was sent afloat and burned. Stoic didn’t know what to do with himself, he just quietly cried. Freya did her best to comfort him.
Stoic was soon made Chief shortly after, replacing the drunken fool his “father” had became. Valr was shunned and became an outcast among the village, spending his last years becoming a drunken fool who did nothing good with his life.
•
Freya is still alive to meet her grandbabies ✨
Her husband had passed away before he could see them though (she did grieve for him since he was a good friend and father to her kids.) she loves all her grand babies wholeheartedly.
…apart from Snotlout, she feels guilty for separating him from the rest for something that happened so long ago and for something he can’t control but her brain still panics when she looks into his eyes.
She does care for Stoic whenever he gets overworked and tired from being a Good chief 24/7 and sometimes helps him out when hiccup can’t since that’s what sunny would’ve done for him. (Though it makes Spitelout severally more bitter than he already is.)
Freya sometimes cries when she’s drunk and looks at hiccup for too long, his face reminds him of her dearly loved wife. She treats hiccup just like any of her grandkids despite him being her great-nephew, she just knows deep in her heart Sunny would loved the genius Hiccup turned into! (though that makes Snotlout more jealous of him than he already is…)
Spitelout and Freya are not on great terms. 😃
she wishes she had done better with him and was there for him through his vulnerable moments. Spitelout is the strict and tough father that always laying it on thick with his own kids because Freya never did any of the sort for him besides his younger siblings and her husband was a pushover (scared of him) to do anything despite his softhanded efforts.
Hiccup has tried to bridge the gap between them but it’s a difficult and slow process due to years of emotional neglect, dishonesty and poor parenting overall.
There was a heavy humidity in the air, the kind that comes before a summer rain. Severus walked slowly down the street, dragging his feet, trying delay what he had to do. His eyes followed the changing patterns the sun drew on the pavement as it came through the leaves and branches of the many trees of that residential neighbourhood of South Side Dublin.
It was the first time Severus saw her house. Her house, he repeated to himself bitterly. The house Evelyn had bought after she moved back to Ireland from France. She had moved here some time after they had seen each other in London, when he showed up unnounced to one of her book signings. How long ago had that been, he wondered, noticing once again how the passing of the years and months got blurrier. Three years? Yes, around that. And yet it felt fresh in his mind as if it had happened that very morning. Severus still remembered the teal wrap dress she was wearing, which earrings, the way her hair was styled, in a fishtail braid. He still remembered the scent of books and coffee that filled the bookshop as she took photos and chatted with friends and readers, and the inebriating scent of lavender, nostalgia and regret that overcame him when he approached her.
Since that night, they had talked to each other maybe twice, over the phone. Once to agree that after what had happened in London they´d both be better off cutting all contact; the second time when Severus had broken that agreement. She hung up on him the second time around, and he never tried to contact her again.
It was easy to find her house among the other similar ones that neatly lined up along the street. He didn´t even have to check the number, he could tell from miles away that one was hers. All the flowers in the garden were red. Most were roses.
The house itself was simple, with a dark red door and white windows and walls. It reminded him a bit of that beach house in Spain where they had spent some of the happiest days of his life in the Spring of 1999. A part of him wanted, foolishly, to believe that maybe that was the reason she had picked this place to live, that maybe the memory of that little white house by the sea was still as dear to her as it was to him.
Severus couldn´t say for sure how long he stood on the street, in front of the little gate, gathering up the courage to walk up to her door and knock.
He knew she was home. He could see through the lace curtains that the lights inside were on, and as he approached the door, he could smell the faint aroma of Lady Grey. She always drank Lady Grey when she was working.
Since her time in Frace, Evelyn had decided to take a break from teaching to focus on her writing. Her first work of historical fiction, the one that had been released in London three years ago, had been very well received. She was known as a historian, so the switch in genre caught readers´attention. She had released another book since then. Severus had read them both back to back several times. She wasn't a world famous famous author, but she was succesfull enough in Ireland and the UK that getting news of her through muggle media was easy. She was working on a third book, according to an interview given to a literary publication a months before.
“Established historian turned fiction writer, Evelyn Black is ready to take her work to bolder, more ambitious routes as she balances a successful writing career and the challenges of single-motherhood.” the piece read, right next to a picture of Evelyn in her rose garden with Soren hugging her about the waist.
Soren had grown so much since Severus had last seen him. He was as tall as his mother's shoulders and he had just turned 11 at the time the picture was taken.
He had her smile.
With a deep breath, Severus knocked.
“What are you doing here?” Evelyn didn't sound irritated as he expected, just tired. As if the mere sight of his face was enough to drain her.
Severus had to put some effort into finding the words to say. Looking at her for the first time since London was a gut punch. Evelyn had, somehow, become more beautiful as the years went by. She had been stunning when he first saw her, standing at his doorstep in Spinner's End in a cold October afternoon. 19 years later, as Severus stood at her doorstep in Dublin in that warm June morning, she was downright majestic. Evelyn was one of those people whose features seem to gain in grandeur as they age.
He noticed, with a pang of sorrow, that she had cut her hair. While they were together, he´d often tell her how much he loved her hair long, how much he loved to run his fingers through it. The shorter hair suited her well enough, the shoulder-lenght made the waves bouce lightly about her face, almost curly, but it still felt like that last connection to him was severed. And it hurt. She had been to the beach recently, judging by the the galaxy of freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks and soft bronzed sheen on her skin, brought out by the white chemise dress with pencil-thin blue stripes.
“I need to talk to you.” he finally let out, clumsily.
“I thought we had agreed that neither of us needs that.”
“It's about Soren.”
“Well, there's even less reason then.”
“He´s just got his letter from Hogwarts, no?” he blurted, desperately trying to get her to keep the door open. She stared daggers at him, but she didn't close the door.
“Yes, he did. What is it to you?”
“You know we have to talk.”
Evelyn paused, sighed, visibly frustrated and walked back inside, leaving the door open so he would follow, but never bothering to actually verbalize an invite.
Somehow Severus just knew how her living room would look like. He knew the way Evelyn liked to organize her books, he knew she liked carved dark woods, bold florals, splashes of warm color over neutrals, art nouveau posters and vintage accents. She had taken little from their home when she moved out, and Severus had never had the heart to change anything, so he had plenty of time to stare at every piece of furniture, every cushion and decoration, and memorize everything to the point that walking into this house that she had decorated herself without any of his input, nothing in it surprised him.
Just one thing was different.
There were pitures of Soren everywhere. Severus didn´t have more than, perhaps, three, which he had got through Minerva and he didn´t have them displayed anywhere. He didn´t have any photos in frames anywhere in the house. He kept them all stored away in a box, which he only opened when he was in the mood to punish himself.
But in this house, Soren´s face was everywhere, along with pictures of Alice and Lizzie (he could barey recognise Lizzie in some, it had been so long since he'd last seen her. Alice he could recognise, she had gone through Hogwarts pretending not to know him, but he had been there to see her through it). Pictures of Soren as a baby, of his birthdays, getting his first bike, swimming, playing football, playing dress up with Evelyn's clothes, pictures with his grandmother, aunt, godfather, cousins, pictures of him and Evelyn on vacation by the beach or going to museums.
A detailed timeline of every part of his son's life he hadn´t been there to see with his own eyes.
It was overwhelming.
“Is he home?” he asked, dazed.
“No. He's at his singing class.” she told him, sitting on the couch without extending an invitation for him to also take a seat. She wanted him out as soon as possible and had no problem making it obvious.
“Singing class?”
“Yes.” she told him in a tone of exhausted disappointment. “A few years ago I took him to see Ravel's 'L'enfant et les sortilèges' and he decided he wanted to be an opera singer when he grew up. I didn´t think he'd stick to it, but I he's quite serious about it. He's been learning the piano to accompany himself when he practices at home as well.”
“Opera, uh?” Severus smiled despite himself, his eyes spotting the piano in the adjacent reading room, through the semi-closed french doors. “He takes that from you.”
“I'm glad you approve. You're the one paying for those.”
“Am I?”
“I have to do something with the child support you insist on depositing every month.” she sighed, annoyed. “Now, why don't you just go ahead and tell me what you have to tell me so we can be done with this before he gets home?”
“Evelyn,” he started, taking a seat. “I know we agreed that I would stay away, but now that Soren got his letter...”
“His presence in Hogwarts will make things uncomfortable for you. Well, I hardly think any of his classmates will make the connection. He doesn´t have your last name. And the staff won't be surprised, most of them were there when we divorced, so...”
“It's not my comfort I'm worried about.”
“In regards to Soren that would be a first.”
Severus held his tongue. A part of him wanted to argue, to tell her that the only reason he had refused to be there for Soren was because he knew no child deserved to be raised by a man who didn´t want to be a father and didn´t know how to be one. That he was just so afraid he'd end up putting Evelyn in the same situation his own mother had been put through: raising a child with a man who had no business raising a child. But it was pointless to tell her that. She wouldn´t understand, and she was right not understand. It was his issue and his alone to deal with. She had a child to worry about and a life to live, and he wasn´t about to stay on her way.
“There's no way around the fact that eventually Soren will find himself sitting in my classroom. We need figure out how we are going to deal with that.”
“And what makes you think I'd put him through that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Alice had it hard enough in Hogwarts after what happened to us. Yes, Soren got his letter, but that doesn´t automatically mean he's going. If he doesn´t feel comfortable having you for a teacher...”
“Wait, wait...You can't do that.” he stammered, trying to take in what she had just said.
“I can, Severus. I've been making every decision about how Soren is raised for the past 11 years, since you decided you didn't want to.”
“He's a wizard, Evelyn, he needs to go somewhere where he will learn...”
“You see, this is why we agreed you'd stay away, Severus. You can´t just decide you don't want to raise him and then come around later like you have anything to do with how he's raised.” she got up, visibly upset, and moved closer to window. That hadn´t changed. Whenever Evelyn was upset she looked to to the nearest window, the nearest source of air. Whenever her feelings grew too much to be confined by walls, she looked out, where walls couldn´t hold all of it in.
Large drops of rain started to fall outside as the gathering humidity finally turned into rain. Evelyn breathed in the scent of her garden, closing her eyes for a moment, obviously trying to calm herself down.
“I know we have an agreement,” he continued, quietly “but it would naive of both of us to think we can just ignore the elephant in the room, Soren is a wizard and...”
“Now you remember that?” there was barely contained anger her voice as she kept her eyes outside, on her roses as they danced in the breeze and the rain.
“He's 11, he's got his letter, so now...”
“Yes, he´s 11, and yes he just got the effin´ letter, and I know all of it is big news to you.” she turned to him and Severus recognised that calm fury of hers. “You think I haven't had to deal with the fact that he's a wizard before? Did you bother to talk to Minerva before you came? Or Andromeda? Molly, Arthur? Because they were the ones I had to go to when my son was making dessert plates float in front of guests or transfiguring his toys, and I was out of my mind with worry that he'd get hurt when I wasn´t around , because there was nobody who could teach him how to control his bursts of magic and there was nothing I could do because I'm not the parent who happens to have the sodding magic gene. I could have used your concern then. But now that 'he's 11 and got his letter' you remember he's a wizard. Am I supposed to thank you?”
“I am not here to dispute any of that.” Severus let out, defeated. “You're right, I don't have the right to come here and try to have any sort of opinion about Soren´s life after I chose to stay out of it. And if the situation was different I wouldn´t dream of doing such a thing. I'm not trying to claim my place as a father, because I haven't been one, but it would be irresponsible of me not to address the fact that, when he goes to Hogwarts, I´ll be his teacher. And that will put all of us in a delicate position.”
“You´re assuming he´s going to Hogwarts. And that's a big assumption to make.”
“What are you planning to do, then?”
“Hogwarts is not the only wizarding school in the world. There are options.”
“Options? Which options?”
“I know you´re not exactly keeping up to date with your son's life, but you do remember we lived in France for five whole years, right? Soren speaks the language just as well as he speaks English, he´s familiar with the country's culture...”
“Beauxbatons?”
“It's as fine a school as any. Fleur Weasley has put me in contact with Madame Maxime. She´s not the headmistress anymore, but she's still in the...”
“You want to send Soren to Beauxbatons?”
“As I said, it's one of my options. I'll have to talk to him, see what makes him more comfortable.”
“Has he said he wants to study there?”
“No, he hasn't.”
“What has he said then?”
“He doesn´t know yet. Almost every witch and wizard he knows has attended Hogwarts. His cousins, his friends, Minerva is the headmistress and he adores her; Teddy has been getting him all excited about it. But in the end of the day, he says he doesn´t know.”
“Because of me...” Severus shouldn't be surprised. Maybe he had fooled himself into thinking he could make a clear break from Soren, to the point he hadn´t seen this coming. Any idiot would have figured out years ago that his continuing to work at Hogwarts would lead to one day Soren crossing the school's gates as student, and this exact situation would present itself. But Severus had gone through the years without feeling them pass, like one day was exactly like the other and the next. Hogwarts was the closest thing had had to a home after he wrecked the one he and Evelyn had built. He had nowhere else to go, so he stayed. Deep down, where he didn´t dare look or aknowledge, he had hoped he wouldn't be around for long enough to see the day Soren would walk into the Great Hall for the first time. Severus had never had the guts to actually follow through, and... But the days, weks, months and years dragged on, one after the other, one exactly like the other, and he just...gave up. When Evelyn moved to France and took Soren with her, Severus had almost convinced himself that they wouldn't be back. Maybe the boy wasn´t a wizard after all, maybe he'd have a normal life away from him and Severus wouldn't have to worry about how much damage he'd still cause. When she came back to Ireland, Severus should have known. That night in London, he should have known. He should have gone about it differently.
“Severus...” she sighed. “I never wanted to be one of those mothers who tell their children all sorts of nasty things about their fathers, and I think I´m not. But what do you want me to do? Lie to him? To be honest, we don´t really talk about you unless Soren asks, and he's been asking less and less. I can't say he's weary of Hogwarts because he feels any type of way about you working there, because honestly I don´t know if that's why. I don't think he remembers you much. The last time you saw him he was what, six?”
“But he does know I exist. And he does know how...we...that I didn't...want...”
“He knows who you are, and where you work, he knows all of our friends and family know you and some still are in contact with you. I never told him in so many words that you didn´t 'want' him. That's a lot to lay on a child...but he's smart enough to know...”
Severus could tell Evelyn was walking on eggshells, trying to tell him exactly what the situation at hand was without starting an argument she obviously didn´t have the will nor energy for. He could only imagine the kind of gymnastics she´d had to do to explain to a little boy that his father was around somewhere, alive and well, still in contact with so many people he knew, but for some reason had just chosen not to raise him.
“You do understand how complicated this is?” she went on, so softly, so gently it made it all worse. Severus would prefer she just be mad at him. “We agreed you'd stay away...And now you assume I´d put my son in a situation where he'll be around you all the time, and you´ll be his teacher, when you never addressed the fact that you're his father. You can see why I´m considering another school?”
“Yes, yes, I can. It just never crossed my mind that...”
The front door swung open before Severus could finish.
“We´re home!” Soren burst into the small entrance hall, a dynamo in blue jeans and a Freddie Mercury t-shirt, wet from head to toe. He stopped at the living room door and carefully took his trainers off, leaving them where they wouldn´t make too much of a mess. He was followed in by an older woman Severus had never seen before.
“Mam, Mrs. Bloom said I can...” Soren stopped dead on his tracks, his smile vanished and his eyes went from Severus to Evelyn, in obvious confusion.
Severus hadn´t seen Soren in person in five years, and photos were hardly enough to prepare him for the encounter.
Soren was tall for his age, all arms and legs as he swagged into the room, rucksack slung across his shoulder, and the the broad steps of a little boy all too eager to become a man. Severus always thought he looked like Evelyn, at least from photos. Looking at him upclose, though, it hit Severus all at once just how much of himself he saw on his features: the black messy hair, grown almost to neck-lenght, the nose, not as pronounced as his own but clearly aquiline, the dark deep set eyes...Soren had Evelyn's mouth and strong eyebrows, but everything else...was like looking in a mirror.
Soren stood in quiet disbelief for a moment, trying to process Severus' presence, trying to place that man standing in his livingroom somewhere in his memory. It was only for a moment, however. Realization washed over the boy's face, like he had just managed to fully comprehend who Severus was, then he turned to his mother again, visibly distraught.
Dreamer your darkening will come, may it not be too soon...
UrVi finds PashYvi the Living Rainbow is in danger of becoming infected by the darkening, as a violet vein is slowly spreading towards it. In desperation to save a precious relic from the past, UrVi attempts to shatter the vein to stop the spread, but ends up cutting themselves with fragments of the darkened crystal. The darkening infects their bloodstream, but UrVi holds on to hope that they can be cured, and decides to make their way to the Sanctuary tree.
Along the way, UrVi steadily becomes more and more infected, but is able to fight it off with little success. SkekYag meanwhile, has to help the remaining Grottan escape the spider-infested Domrak after SkekLi's attack. As he mourns over the loss of his home, he begins to notice strange symptoms affecting him...including a tinge of purple in his eyes.
He quickly realizes what is happening and goes to search for UrVi to figure out how to stop the spread of the illness, as UrVi meanwhile makes their way towards Grot. As they move through the Dark Woods, UrVa finds them and warns them that as they travel they spread the Darkening with them. UrVi tells him that they are making their way to the tree, firmly asserting that Vliste-Staba can heal them. UrVa denies this, saying that they will never make it to the tree in time and offers to bring them to the heart of the Cradle Tree instead. UrVi takes the offer, but upon reaching the Cradle Tree and entering a deep meditative trance to communicate with it, the Cradle Tree tells UrVi that it cannot cure them.
It then tries to "contain" UrVi by trying to trap them (similar to how UrVa was trapped in Shadows) but when the vines reach UrVi's throat it triggers his PTSD, causing him to unwittingly unleash the Darkening upon Olyeka-Staba. Feeling betrayed and still reeling from both the episode and the attack, UrVi accuses UrVa of having lured them there to meet their doom, which UrVa denies. The Darkening spreads quicker throughout UrVi's body and UrVi flees.
SkekYag makes his way through the Dark Wood, searching for UrVi. He sees the trail they left and goes looking for them, only to find a very distressed UrVa. UrVa tells SkekYag where UrVi went and SkekYag tells him that the Sanctuary tree cannot heal them, as it has been killed. SkekYag blames the Skeksis, strengthening his hatred of them, and also spreads the Darkening further throughout his body.
UrVi clings on to hope despite their growing sickness, assuring themselves that after they reach the Tree, "everything will be better". They eventually do reach the tree, but to their horror, finds that it is dead. All the hope that they ever had vanishes, and they resign themselves to letting Grot become their Tomb. They climb down a shaft into the now Darkening-infested Grot (the spiders had fled) and descends deeper and deeper.
SkekYag catches up to them (for this particular scene "Wait for Me" from Hadestown comes to mind) and he too, makes the descent. UrVi and SkekYag find each other after weeks, but at this point UrVi has given up hope, letting their body crystalize (UrVi used their magic to do this). UrVi has become embittered against all creation, bemoaning to SkekYag that he had always been right and they a fool to "ever have believed in anything".
"I see now. There truly is no place for love on this forsaken planet- nay, even in all the Universe. All of Creation has rejected and damned me, even after I have shown it nothing but kindness. We were never meant to be. I see now that after being blissfully blind all my life, I have at last opened my eyes to the truth of things...SoSu never should have saved us...I'm sorry."
SkekYag tells UrVi that none of that was true, and reminds UrVi of all the good they have done. UrVi remarks that SkekYag is only telling them a pleasant lie, and SkekYag admits that he may be, but there is always "truth to every lie". They stay in silence for a moment, and UrVi quietly asks SkekYag to stay with them.
A sound, barely a coo, broke the dim silence.
"...Will you stay?...I'm scared."
"...I am too," SkekYag croaked woefully. The tears were burning his skin, but in desperation to feel anything at all he let it continue.
One of UrVi's hands, a shadow in the dim light of their violet veins, reached out to him. He could see the little crystals growing from their scars, oozing out a purple liquid as they broke through the skin; he felt it, too. He swallowed, the action painful, but curled into their side. It was all he could do.
"...I don't even know...what will happen to us," UrVi said quietly after a moment, "I...I don't know if we even have a soul like this. I don't know if Thra will even accept us...SkekYag, I'm afraid we won't even exist at all."
SkekYag had nothing to say, because UrVi voiced all of his own fears, like an echo of his thoughts. He wanted to laugh almost, but he felt that his ribcage would collapse if he did; never before had he been closer to his other half than in this moment, and it was only because they were dying.
Eggsy takes a detour to Kentucky after a mission, without telling anyone (although Merlin probably knows and Roxy will most likely guess), and visits that awful, abandoned church. He doesn't go in, just stands in the empty parking lot staring at the spot which he knows is where Harry fell, because there is a faded bloodstain on the concrete ground that could not be completely cleaned off.
There is nothing else - no chalk outline, no grave marker, just a misshapen imprint of death.
He crouches down and reaches a trembling hand towards the bloodstain, feels the heat of the sun-baked ground radiating up towards him even as the waves of oppressive summer heat beat down upon him. He almost expects to see and feel fresh blood pour forth from beneath the surface, coating his hands and staining his clothes.
He is wearing the suit Harry gifted to him.
He presses his right hand against the death-dyed concrete, while his left hand clutches helplessly at his chest. Suddenly his legs can no longer support him and he tips forward, bearing most of his weight on his right arm even as his knees hit the ground.
There may be bruises, later, but not blood.
He wonders if his elbow would give way as well and let him fall the rest of the way, to smash his forehead against the hard, harsh concrete. Rain begins to fall from the sky in huge splattering droplets, but he remains frozen in place. Soon enough, water has covered the ground, even the bloodstained patch that he had temporarily - futilely - shielded from the rain with his own body.
The blood looks darker now, more real.
Eggsy braces his forearms on the ground in front of his knees with his head against his arms and, thus prostrated, finally allows himself to cry. His tears mingle with the rainwater and are washed away, but the indelible red mark remains.
