Blooming
After back to back tasks demanding his attention, Mesmyr is happy to have a chance to go home.
TW: old age, talks of death
The first rose of the season is blooming. It's healthy, vibrant, with petals of deep, rich red. Mesmyr tenderly strokes the velvety flower, a smile on his lips. Juliette will be very pleased to see it, she always takes such excellent care of them. Feels like only yesterday that he was helping her plant these very same bushes. Tiny things they were, scrawny, and yet after a few hundred years they have flourished into verdant shrubs.
“Mamá!”
Mesmyr's wings flash a bright, happy yellow. “Juliette, my flower, there you are!”
The young woman who rushes down the villa steps, dark curls bouncing wildly, at first glance seems human enough. But if one were to look closer, they would find sideways pupils and soft, rosey pink ears that are far more resemblant of a goat. A furred tail hides amongst her many skirts, and dainty claws painted pink adorn her fingers. She is taller than Mesmyr, her embrace tight and warm.
When they part, Mesmyr cups her cheeks with gentle hands searching her face. “You are well? I am sorry for my long absence.”
“There is no need to apologize, Mamá. I know you work hard, I am simply happy you are home.” They link arms as they walk together through the villa’s gardens. “Lucille is making Fabada for supper tonight.”
“I have desperately missed her cooking, so I am looking forward to it.”
Juliette smirks. “And how is our Nephalem? Staying out of trouble?”
Mesmyr sighs softly. “His brother discovered his secret. That is why I have been gone for more than a few days. It has been… difficult for them.”
The demon’s smirk morphs into a frown. “Would that he simply could have been raised here. You and Papa would have loved him, as you love us all.”
Shaking his head, Mesmyr gives her hands a gentle squeeze. “He deserved to be raised with his people, and with his brother. Parker and Roxanne loved him, of that I have no doubt. Parents sometimes make poor decisions, but hiding him here would have caused other problems.”
“I suppose you are right, as usual,” Juliette sighs, pouting at him.
They reach the main entrance to the villa and Juliette slows, gripping Mesmyr’s arm tighter. “Mamá!… I thought you should know, Papá had another episode yesterday. They are becoming more frequent.”
The touch of blue that colors his feathers lingers far longer than usual. “I see. Is he in the study?”
“I believe he’s on the veranda.”
“Thank you.”
Kissing her cheek, Mesmyr slips his arm from his daughter’s and laces his fingers together, walking the quiet halls of his home and missing the days when they were full of the noises of children playing. The doors to the veranda are open wide, the beautiful ocean breeze tinged with the sweetness of blooming hydrangeas.
“Marius?”
The man seated on the veranda looks up from his book, a bright smile crossing his dashing face. Mesmyr feels his heart swell at the sight, and he fears he may swoon. “Mesmyr, my love. I was about to beat down the doors to the Agency and demand that Mercury give you a day off.”
Mesmyr snorts, taking Marius’ hand. Fingers weathered with age lace with his, the matching bands of magic glowing as they get closer together. A lump forms in Mesmyr’s throat, and he presses his lips into a thin line. Once, both their hands were young, when time seemed meaningless and their lifetimes infinite. Mesmyr’s is still infinite, but Marius…
“Myr?”
Blinking, Mesmyr swiftly schools his features into a smile. “Forgive me, my love. I was lost in thought.”
Marius raises an amused eyebrow. “You may be an excellent liar to everyone else, Myr, but I have known you for eons. You cannot lie to me.”
The smile fades, and Mesmyr swallows thickly. “I am sorry, I just…”
“I know.” There is warmth on Marius’ face, and something so profoundly sad. “The day approaches, faster now than it ever seemed like it could.”
“I was selfish,” Mesmyr whispers, not realizing his grip has grown tight. “I should have taken the Morte ages ago, grown old with you.”
“I am glad that you did not,” Marius says bluntly. “You have so much love to give and the world needs you as much, if not more than I do. And it is a comfort to know that when I am gone, you will still be here for our children.”
Mesmyr leans into his side, inhaling the richness of his cologne, spices and caramel. “Do you ever regret loving someone who would not lay with you?”
“Never. I could not have asked for anyone better.”
Death is part of life. Since his birth, Mesmyr has known that things die. He has understood, and he has let go. But this time… “I don’t want you to go.”
Marius sighs, silver locks of hair falling as he tilts his head to rest it atop Mesmyr’s coppery curls. “It will be alright. One day, you will be human, and I hope that when that day comes, you will find another love to grow old with.”
It should have been this love. Mesmyr tries once more to swallow past the pain threatening to overwhelm him, when Marius struggles to rise to his feet. Mesmyr hurries to help him up, a steady arm on his side. “Juliette mentioned that the roses should be blooming any day now, shall we go see if any have opened?”
Mesmyr smiles, a genuine one. “Of course, my dear.”