A Motherly Confirmation
Who: @druidicart and Millie
Where: Art’s house
When: Right after he got back from meeting Ariel
What: Art confronts his mother on what he learned after meeting Ariel. She reluctantly confirms it and Art storms out in a rage.
When Art came back to his body, his face was wet with tears. He swiped them away and couldn’t stop the overwhelming swath of emotions that hit him afterward. He’d gone into the astral plane in an attempt to talk to his father but instead ran into his sister. His half sister. From a man he never thought would be his father. Ariel had been right: all the signs pointed to Peter Hale being Art’s father. They looked alike and Art always felt a strange pull toward him when he shouldn’t have. Arts mother’s strange but sad attraction coupled with the way she always made sure he and Peter were never together long. At first Art thought it was because Peter became an alpha and considering it was an alpha that had killed both his father and his uncle, he assumed she thought Peter would do the same.
But his father? Then why would he have lived his entire life thinking his father was the one who raised him? Did his dad know who Arthur was? Did Millie know? Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she suspected but it wasn’t the truth and Arthur Sr was Arthur’s true father.
He knew the only person who could answer these burning questions was his own mother, but he was afraid of what he’d say to her. She would know he was experimenting with astral projection and trying to see his father. His dad? He didn’t know what to call him. For Art’s entire life, Arthur had been his dad and he wasn’t about to stop thinking like that any time soon. Even if his mom confirmed it.
He needed to know. Needed to find out. The anger and the sadness were at an all time high and he knew it was irrational to act when his emotions were out of control like this, but the pull was too great. If he didn’t ask now, he’d never ask and he’d never know. The not-knowing was the worst part. With a deep breath, he left his room and moved through the narrow hallway to his moms room. Tentatively, he knocked on the door and let himself in. She was asleep but he didn’t let that deter him.
“Mom,” he hissed, and when she didn’t stir, he shook her. “Mom!”
Millie’s eyes shot open as she woke up and she gasped a moment, as if she were expecting something other than her son at her bedside. “Art, honey, you scared me,” she breathed out, holding a hand to her chest. She moved over on the bed just like she used to when Art had nightmares and would try to crawl into bed with her. Only this time, Art was angry, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I met someone today I think you should know about.”
“Oh?” she asked, looking over at her alarm clock and groaning. “Art it’s two in the morning. Can this wait until tomorrow?”
“No it can’t!” he said, the volume of his voice rising. “I went to the astral plane looking for dad. I wanted to ask him something and it took me to, get this mom.” He leaned down and whispered to her. “My closest blood relative.”
Millie was more than awake, now. She narrowed her eyes at her son and sat up in bed, giving him her full attention. “What did you do?”
“I know you heard me.”
“Messing around with the astral plane is dangerous! You could have gotten trapped!”
“But I didn’t, mom. I came back. With information.”
“Who did you meet? Your grandma? Did she tell you about the Nemeton?”
“No, stop trying to change the subject, mom. I can tell you’re nervous. You can’t lie to me.”
Millie swallowed thickly and it was in that moment that Art realized that he could be more powerful than her if he tried. He’d always looked up to his mother, but in the end, she was only ahead of him because she had more knowledge and experience. If Art used his talents to their full potential, he could surpass her. The thought gave him the confidence to continue.
“I met a girl. Her name was Ariel and she was Peter Hale’s daughter.”
Millie looked white as a sheet, making the purple worry and fear around her head even more visible in the dark.
“Why would Peter Hale’s daughter be my closest blood relative, mom?”
Millie’s mouth opened and closed and then her face changed entirely. He could tell she was trying desperately to hide her emotions from her son but he continued to look at her pointedly. He refused to back down. “Because,” she started. “She would be your sister.”
There it was. Proof from his mom. The tears he felt when he came back returned and he sat down on the bed. Although he was still angry, the thought of losing his father a second time was more than enough to cripple him.
“Honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you, either of you, to find out. Peter wouldn’t have made a good father. I had to make a decision and I chose your father. Your real father. Arthur raised you, Art. He’s your dad. Not Peter.” She tried to reach out and hug him, but he shoved her hands away. He couldn’t even look at her at the moment. The myriad of colors were too much for him. He could only stare at his hands and wonder just how much he’d inherited from Peter Hale.
“Did my father know?”
“He did. But he promised to raise you as his own. He wanted to tell you…. All the time. But I wouldn’t let him.”
“Does this make me half werewolf?” Art was suddenly aware of just how close he was with werewolves. He thought it had something to do with how connected druids were with wolves, but maybe there was another reason. He’d never had a pull toward the moon, except for feeling like he needed all his plants to soak up as much moonlight as possible. He could always sense wolves no matter where he was… and he was just as good a judge of emotions as any wolf only he couldn’t smell the feelings… but he could see them.
“I don’t know, honey. You’re a druid through and through. I’ve always thought you were a little more than that.”
Art needed to get out. To walk for a while, even at two in the morning. He couldn’t hold still. Not with this kind of a revelation being thrown at him all in one night. “I need to go,” he said, standing up.
Millie reached over to take his hand before he went to far. “Take protection with you. And whatever you do, don’t tell Peter.”
He’d never seen his mother look so small before. She was always a force to be reckoned with, taking up the entire room with her personality. But now she was so lost and scared and Art never thought he would see his mother like this again—not since her husband’s death.
“I won’t,” Art said, turning on her. “That’s your job.” He stormed from the room.